The Amusing Adventures of a Directionally Challenged Dad and Daughter-Chapter 154

"My maternal grandparents live in The Capital. I stayed there for three months this time and heard all the latest gossip," Second Jiang grinned, chuckling as he added, "I even know which official's concubine had an affair."

Chang'an and Old Gu Six clearly had no interest in such topics.

They spent the afternoon playing on the beach. When night fell, Second Jiang didn’t return home—the journey was too long for traveling after dark. Instead, they set up two tents on the hillside to spend the night.

As the sun rose and the moon set, seasons changed, and another year passed. Second Jiang’s coastal town was finally completed.

He invited Old Gu Six and Chang'an to attend the opening celebration.

The father-daughter pair figured they had nothing better to do, so they might as well join the festivities—if only for a casual stroll.

It had to be said that Second Jiang’s influence was impressive. Players who had traveled all the way from Jiangnan showed up in full force, their sincerity undeniable.

The so-called "grand opening" was nothing more than setting off a few extra strings of firecrackers. Second Jiang rambled through a couple of half-hearted remarks while his elder brother helped entertain the guests.

Chang'an wasn’t fond of such noisy commotion, so she and Old Gu Six headed up the mountain to the temple. The path from the town below had a full eight hundred steps.

The father-daughter duo simply used their qinggong (light-footed martial arts) to ascend. After all, sincerity wasn’t measured by how many steps you climbed—wasn’t it said that faith alone could move mountains?

Inside the temple, the scent of sandalwood incense lingered, and the murmurs of Buddhist chants filled the air.

Many visitors had already gathered, all offering incense and prayers in the Grand Hall.

Old Gu Six led Chang'an past the entrance of the hall, sparing only a brief glance before moving on.

The Abbot, who had been reciting scriptures with closed eyes, suddenly opened them and turned his gaze toward the doorway—just in time to catch sight of the two figures, one tall and one small, disappearing into the light.

"Amitabha," he murmured.

His expression darkened for just a moment before returning to normal as he resumed his chanting.

The temple was vast, with over a dozen halls of varying sizes—scripture repositories, meditation rooms, guest quarters, dining halls, and even a martial arts training ground. The entire mountaintop belonged to the temple.

They arrived at the Wishing Pond, where numerous young ladies and gentlemen were tossing coins and making wishes.

Chang'an craned her neck to look. The turtle in the pond was too small—probably not very tasty. Would their wishes even come true? Wasn’t this technically child labor?

To the right of the Wishing Pond stood the Matchmaker’s Pavilion. Second Jiang, ever the eccentric, had even built a God of Wealth Pavilion right beside it.

Chang'an observed that most of the Matchmaker’s visitors were women. In ancient times, the dream of a sheltered maiden was a good marriage. If this were modern times, the Matchmaker’s Pavilion would probably go out of business.

The God of Wealth, on the other hand, must have been overwhelmed. Yet, many still came to pray—both the rich and the poor, all kneeling in devout worship.

In comparison, the Matchmaker’s business seemed rather bleak.

"Dad, look—the Matchmaker isn’t busy at all. Maybe they should go wish for wealth there instead. Their prayers might get answered faster. The God of Wealth is too swamped—it’d take ages to get through all those requests, right?"

Surprisingly, there were indeed some free spirits whose thoughts aligned with Chang'an’s. Upon hearing her words, they promptly abandoned the God of Wealth and rushed to the Matchmaker instead.

These were the Capital’s spoiled young masters, the kind who never followed the beaten path.

Up in the heavens, the Matchmaker suddenly found himself bombarded with a flood of wealth-related wishes. Never had he felt so utterly speechless.

With a flick of his hand, he peered down at the mortal realm and finally located the source of the chaos.

Who in the world had the bright idea to place the Matchmaker and the God of Wealth side by side?

Ah, now it made sense.

Fine. Let them all stay single—cheaper and more motivating that way.

After wandering around the temple and finding nothing particularly entertaining—and most importantly, the two turtles still too small to eat—they decided to leave.

As they departed, the Abbot opened his eyes once more, staring thoughtfully in the direction of the temple gates before resuming his meditation.

The town at the foot of the mountain had everything one could need—except for a brothel.

A private school stood near the coast, the voices of children reciting lessons drifting pleasantly through the streets.

Chang'an spotted the Old Lady who had once sold hairpins, along with her husband, setting up a stall.

Second Jiang’s promotional efforts had clearly paid off—over ninety percent of the street-side shops were already leased, and numerous vendors lined the roads.

She walked over and greeted them. "Old Lady, you’ve come to set up shop here too? Do you remember me?"

Five or six years had passed, yet the Old Lady looked just as she had at their first meeting—graceful, elegant, and composed.

The Old Lady smiled warmly and nodded. "I remember every person who’s ever bought a hairpin from me."

Inwardly, she thought, The girl hasn’t changed a bit in six years.

Chang'an picked out another wooden hairpin for herself and a white jade one for a man.

The ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‍jade hairpin, adorned with cloud patterns, was more expensive—this time costing her ten taels of silver.

The Old Lady’s husband beckoned her over with a grin. "We have even prettier masks this time."

He produced a fox mask and a ceremonial one.

Delighted, Chang'an accepted the ceremonial mask as a gift and purchased the fox mask.

The father-daughter pair strolled through the town but only made purchases at the Old Lady’s stall.

As evening approached, they decided to stay overnight at an inn.

Just then, Second Jiang found them. Hearing that Chang'an planned to book a room, he led them to the inn where he was currently staying—one of his own properties.

His house was located deep in the town, making it inconvenient for frequent travel, so he had opened two inns in the town center for his own use.

Second Jiang’s elder brother, Jiang Ge, bore a strong resemblance to him—only slightly older but far more composed.

"Brother, this is Master Gu and his daughter, Miss Chang'an."

"Master Gu, Miss Chang'an, this is my elder brother, Jiang Ge."

Jiang Ge bowed respectfully to Old Gu Six. "Master Gu, Miss Chang'an, it’s an honor."

Old Gu Six didn’t stop him—this was one of those moments when he switched into his dependable, serious persona.

He had mastered the art of adapting: the kind of person he appeared to be depended entirely on who he was dealing with.

Second Jiang eagerly pulled out all the Jiangnan specialties his brother had brought, piling them in front of Chang'an.

She only sampled the osmanthus cakes, leaving the rest untouched. A taste was enough—she wasn’t about to lose her manners over a few boxes of pastries.

Jiang Ge arranged dinner, and Old Gu Six didn’t decline. After all, if Second Jiang kept bothering them, it was only fair to accept a meal in return.

He and Jiang Ge conversed effortlessly. No matter the topic, Old Gu Six had insightful responses—even offering guidance when Jiang Ge hit a mental block.

Having lived several lifetimes as a near-royal antagonist, Old Gu Six was no ordinary man. Whether in politics or business, his advice cut straight to the heart of the matter.

His vision left the brothers in awe. While others saw only their immediate surroundings, Old Gu Six’s gaze spanned the stars and the seas.

Chang'an watched as the two brothers were thoroughly charmed and nearly rolled her eyes.

As cups clinked and toasts were made, the three began addressing each other as brothers.

Didn’t anyone realize the generational mismatch?

Sure, Old Gu Six might look young, but he was in his late thirties—practically the same age as their father.

Chang'an decided her father was being shortchanged in seniority. This wouldn’t do—he needed a promotion.

She tugged at Old Gu Six’s sleeve and whispered, "Dad, don’t you think being called ‘brother’ lowers your status? Wouldn’t ‘uncle’ sound more fitting?"

"They're drunk," Old Gu Six murmured softly.

"Even better. Let's trick them into calling us 'Dad'—no, 'Uncle'."

"Calling us 'Uncle' makes us sound old. How about 'Big Bro' instead?"

"Then I’d be lowering my own status—I’d have to call them 'Uncle'."

Old Gu Six didn’t like that one bit. His daughter had to hold the highest seniority—he wanted those two boys to call her "Great Aunt."

So, once he confirmed the Jiang brothers were truly drunk, he coaxed them, "Good grandsons, call me 'Grandpa'."

The brothers stared dazedly at the figure swaying in front of them, his voice drifting in and out. Their alcohol-numbed brains struggled to keep up.

Obediently, they echoed, "Grandpa."

Chang'an leaned in. "Call me 'Great Aunt'."

And again, they followed, "Great Aunt."