The Amusing Adventures of a Directionally Challenged Dad and Daughter-Chapter 131

The topic of private savings was dropped there, and the father-daughter pair each held an apple, squatting together on the windowsill while eating and gazing at the distant street scene.

Old ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‍Gu Six occupied most of the space, leaving Chang'an squeezed into a corner.

She nudged her dear father. "Dad, do you not realize how much room you take up?"

"It's just that this window is small," he replied, carefully shifting aside to make more space for her.

Passersby below, hearing the commotion, looked up and saw what appeared to be a not-quite-right pair—one large, one small—squabbling over territory on the windowsill.

The pedestrians were utterly speechless. What kind of oddballs were these?

The inn was situated on higher ground, offering an excellent view of the bustling market ahead. Street vendors peddled all sorts of wares, while groups of friends wandered about, browsing here and there.

A young man bought a pretty hairpin from a street stall to gift to the girl he fancied. A kite seller posed riddles to customers—answer correctly, and the kite was free; answer wrong, and they had to pay double.

A steamed bun vendor grumbled as he handed a plump, white bun to a little beggar. His wife, seemingly sharp-tongued, shooed the child away but secretly tossed him an extra bun.

"Dad, this inn has such a great location. Why isn’t it doing any business?"

"It’s not about the location—it’s about fate. The innkeeper has no fortune in his life. No matter what he does, he can’t prosper. He can barely scrape by," Old Gu Six said, chewing up his apple core and swallowing it, though he kept the seeds in his palm.

"Dad, do you see that umbrella? Isn’t it pretty?" Chang'an pointed at a stall selling oil-paper umbrellas, where the vendor had two on display—one painted with ink-wash landscapes, the other adorned with cute, lively rabbits.

Old Gu Six assumed she fancied the rabbit one. "I’ll make you one when we get back."

Chang'an hesitated. "Uh… how’s your painting skill?"

"It’s just a rabbit. I’ll catch one and copy it. No big deal," he waved it off confidently.

Yeah, right. Chang'an hopped down from the windowsill and headed outside. Buying one was definitely the safer bet.

Old Gu Six immediately followed. This place was unfamiliar, and he wasn’t about to let his daughter wander the streets alone.

The inn wasn’t far from the market. Chang'an soon reached the umbrella stall, where three girls were already making purchases, each blushing shyly.

Chang'an didn’t get it. It was just an umbrella—not some scandalous purchase.

Then the vendor turned around, and she understood their flustered reactions. freeωebnovēl.c૦m

The young man wore rough hemp clothes, but his features were exquisitely handsome, refined as jade. His obsidian-dark eyes held the serene elegance of a starry midnight sky—mesmerizing at a glance.

Chang'an turned and looked up at her father. Nope, her dad was still the best-looking. No arguments accepted.

Old Gu Six had noticed the situation too. He glanced down at his silly daughter.

Good. Her big eyes were still full of admiration for her dad—no straying toward other distractions.

She was still too young to be swayed by romantic nonsense. The thought of it made him queasy.

He stepped forward and picked up the rabbit-patterned umbrella, its edges adorned with delicate tassels. Honestly, how practical was this? In the rain, those tassels would get soaked, flicking water everywhere with the slightest movement.

But if his daughter liked it, they could buy it just to admire.

Chang'an stopped him. "Dad, not that one—the other one." Too short to reach, she tugged at his sleeve, standing on tiptoe to point at the ink-wash landscape version.

Ah, of course. His daughter wouldn’t go for something so impractical.

He picked up the other umbrella, inspecting it carefully. No flaws. The painting was quite good—no wonder she liked it.

Folding the umbrella, he coolly asked the young man, "How much for this?"

The vendor looked surprised. He hadn’t expected to sell this one—it had hung there for over a month without interest. Most customers were young girls who preferred cute designs like the rabbit one.

Softly, he said, "If you like it, sir, you may have it as a gift." He hadn’t really intended to sell it—the painting was his own work, waiting for someone who’d appreciate it.

Old Gu Six didn’t haggle. He pulled out one of his last two silver fragments and set it on the stall. Taking the umbrella, he grabbed Chang'an’s hand and left.

The longer they stayed, the more he worried his daughter might start acting like those girls—eyes glued to the young man. The very idea made him shudder, and he quickened his pace.

The vendor picked up the silver, meaning to return it, but they were already gone. He wanted to say the umbrella wasn’t worth that much.

But the three girls gave him no time to dwell, chattering away as they asked him to help choose umbrellas and peppering him with random questions.

Left speechless, he endured it as usual—just another day.

Back at the inn, Chang'an took the umbrella from her father and suddenly said, "Dad, didn’t you say you were out of private savings? Where’d you get the money for this?"

Oops. Forgot about that. Old Gu Six silently reached into his robe and pulled out five copper coins.

"Now I’m really broke. This is all that’s left."

Chang'an nodded. Later, she retrieved a silver ingot from her space and handed it to him. "Break it up yourself when you need it."

Old Gu Six examined the ingot—stamped with the mark of the Prefecture Governor's Mansion from Xuantu County. He tucked it into his sleeve for later.

That night, a torrential downpour struck. Shen Hao, the magistrate’s son recovering at the clinic, was rushed home through the storm by his father.

Chen Jiannan—the son of the woman Old Gu Six had prophesied about—lay half-dead in jail after thirty lashes. Now that Shen Hao’s condition was confirmed, Chen Jiannan wouldn’t escape unscathed.

Old Lady Chen hurried back, desperate for a solution.

The next day, Old Gu Six and Chang'an left the town. Old Lady Chen later learned that Shen Hao had been injured before Chen Jiannan’s involvement.

She pieced together most of the story—except for the crucial detail of Shen Hao’s actual condition.

Unbeknownst to her, Ye Dazhuang had already reported everything to the magistrate the day before.

The magistrate wasn’t unreasonable. He knew his son had been at fault, and the punishment—bedridden for ten days or so—was hardly excessive. He had no grounds to blame the other party.

But Chen Jiannan? He was the one who’d ultimately crippled his son.

"Couldn’t watch where he was going? In such a hurry to die? Fine—I’ll help him along."

Old Lady Chen never got to see the magistrate. The guards sent her packing, and she wailed like a madwoman in the streets.

"No justice! The magistrate bullies the common folk! Won’t anyone stand up for me?"

The guards who’d tossed her out hurried to explain to the gathering crowd.

"The son of Old Lady Chen injured someone, and the county magistrate merely sentenced him to a brief imprisonment as a warning. Unwilling to accept this, she kept making a scene, disrupting the magistrate’s official duties. In the end, the constables had no choice but to drive her out."

The magistrate had always enjoyed a good reputation among the people, so they naturally trusted the constable’s words. After casting a few scornful glances at Old Lady Chen, the crowd dispersed.

With no one left to plead her case, Old Lady Chen was left in tears, utterly lost and unsure of where to turn.