Wang Xian rubbed his ear, wincing. "Ow... seriously, Mom?"
She stood before him, arms crossed, unrepentant. "What are you staring at? Stop gawking and get back to leveling. Or do I need to twist the other ear too?"
Resigned, Wang Xian muttered something under his breath and turned back toward the field. But before he could take a step, something strange bloomed around him.
Dozens of flowers—some familiar, many not—unfurled in midair, phantasmal and otherworldly. Roses and lilies, peonies and narcissus, all swirling in an intricate waltz around him before bursting into delicate trails of shimmering light and merging into his chest.
Ding! You have received the blessing of Hundred Flowers. All attributes increased by 10% for 6000 seconds.
The system alert echoed in his mind. Wang Xian blinked.
A ten percent buff across all stats—nothing to sneeze at. But what grabbed his attention wasn't the effect, but the duration.
"Six... thousand seconds?" he muttered aloud.
Then he remembered. [Hundred Flowers Contend]—Cheng Yao's one and only buff skill after becoming the Flower God. The base effect was decent. But combined with her mythical-grade talent [God's Grace], which amplified buffs and heals by a thousand percent...
That explained the hundred-minute duration. Ridiculous. Overpowered. Pure nonsense.
And still, Wang Xian found himself mildly disappointed.
If only the buff's effect scaled too... imagine a 100% boost to all stats. He tried not to salivate. "Nope," he muttered. "Not gonna happen. Don't get greedy."
Even so, the 10% bump added significant bite to his attacks. His next cast of Lightning Strike landed a staggering 526 damage on a wandering soul.
The fight continued until dawn.
Exactly at 6 a.m., the surrounding ghosts let out a synchronized, bone-rattling wail. Then, in thin tendrils of black smoke, they drifted away—receding toward the ghost gates dotting the countryside.
Their time was over.
That was the way of the Zhongyuan Festival. Ghosts emerged with the midnight bells and vanished with the morning light.
"Alright, they're done for now. Let's head back," Wang Xian called out, brushing the soot off his hands.
Everyone agreed, their faces pale and tired, but content.
In just six hours, the group had made solid gains. Wang Xian himself jumped from level 15 to 17. Everyone else climbed three levels on average. Su Jin, unsurprisingly, had risen the most—also reaching level 17 and, somehow, even eclipsing Wang Xian in total experience.
Ridiculous.
But expected. She had the [Favor of the Goddess of Luck], and she was always near Wang Xian's [Compassion] skill range. The XP was practically dumping into her.
They could've leveled more, but mana had been their bottleneck. With no potions, they were forced to stop frequently and meditate, watching their MP crawl back slowly. It was painful.
"Ghosts are gone. We go home," Wang Xian said with finality.
Back on the path, he glanced at the four guests lingering nearby.
"So... do I take you four back to the city?" he asked casually.
Cheng Yao raised an eyebrow and pointed at his parked electric tricycle. "In that glorified shopping cart?"
Wang Xian gave her a sidelong glare.
Unbothered, she smirked.
Before he could reply, Nangong Wu stepped forward. "Uncle, you're going to keep leveling at night, right?"
"Yeah. Every night until the 15th," Wang Xian nodded.
"Then... is there room for us to stay?"
He blinked. "What? No. You saw my house. There's no space."
"Floor's fine. It's summer. It's not like we'll freeze," Nangong Wu shrugged.
"You want to sleep on the floor?" he asked dubiously, eyeing her like she'd grown another head.
This was Nangong Wu. Not just a top mage, but the former heiress of a fallen conglomerate. A name once spoken in headlines. And now she wanted to sleep on a village floor?
"Uncle, don't look at me like that," she said with mock offense. "Even a chair is enough for me. I'm not as delicate as you think."
Wang Xian stared at her, sighed, and gave up. "Alright. Stay if you want."
The group trudged back home. As they entered, Wang Xian's mother suddenly swooped in like a tactical airstrike and began stripping his bed.
"Whoa whoa, Mom! What are you doing? I can fix it myself!"
He was genuinely touched. Was she really offering to help him after a long night of ghost hunting?
She rolled his bedding up expertly.
"Mom... why are you rolling it like that?"
"You're not actually planning to make four girls sleep on the floor, are you? You're giving them your bed."
Before he could protest, she shoved the rolled bundle into his arms. "Take it. Your bed's big enough for three. The other one can bunk with Xiao Jin."
Wang Xian stood frozen in the doorway, cradling the betrayal like it was his first heartbreak.
"But... I thought... you were helping me..." he whispered.
"You're still here? Go!"
His last shred of pride fluttered away in the wind.
He shuffled out like a ghost himself.
As he passed the living room, the girls spotted the bedding in his arms.
"Is that for us? Aww, you didn't have to—here, let us take it!" Nangong Wu stepped forward.
Wang Xian juked to the side like a pro athlete, holding the bedding out of reach and glaring at her with the silent fury of a man whose world had collapsed.
Then, without a word, he vanished into the night like a bitter NPC.
"Did... did Uncle just glare at us?" Cheng Yao asked, baffled.
"Big resentment," Yue Rushuang nodded solemnly.
"Yeah. Like... deep, soul-level resentment," Feng Luoli added.
"Did we do something wrong?" Nangong Wu asked.
No one could answer.
Then Wang Xian's mother returned and led them into the now-cleared bedroom.
"You four can sleep here. One of you will bunk with Xiao Jin," she explained.
It all clicked.
They looked at the bed.
Then at each other.
"Oh," they said in unison.
"…We stole his bed."