Hunting milfs in cultivation world
Chapter 34: Dream 1

Chapter 34: Dream 1

Meng hao closed his eyes and thought of an imaginary dream in mist of this boring play:

He imagined himself as a certain protagonist who was in his sect courtyard while these girls were the attackers attacking him...

The sect’s inner court, usually bustling with the disciplined rhythm of cultivation, fell into an eerie stillness. In the heart of the arena stood Meng Hao, his posture relaxed, hands clasped behind his back. A quiet strength clung to him like a shadow. No one noticed the change at first—until the wind shifted.

Then, everything erupted.

An overwhelming aura exploded from his body, invisible yet all-encompassing. The air rippled like water under his presence, and the ground beneath his feet shuddered as though acknowledging its superior. Spiritual pressure radiated out in rings of oppressive force, spreading farther with every breath he took.

It was the Golden Core Realm.

The sky seemed to dim as his cultivation base fully revealed itself. The clouds swirled as if reacting to the pulse of heaven and earth being thrown into imbalance. The very laws of nature bent slightly in his presence.

BOOM!

A low, dull sound echoed as the spiritual energy in the surroundings was pulled into chaos. Winds stirred into a cyclone, lifting dust and leaves, snapping tree branches, and shaking the ornamental statues surrounding the courtyard. Birds that had nested nearby took off in terror, fleeing the invisible god who had awoken in their midst.

The weaker cultivators—those still at the Qi Gathering Realm—didn’t even last a breath.

As if controlled by a higher will, their knees buckled. One by one, they collapsed, groaning as their dantians quivered uncontrollably. Their faces went pale, eyes wide with horror as they realized they couldn’t even move under the weight of his cultivation. Their spiritual roots trembled, their bones felt brittle, and their souls screamed in surrender.

Among them, several female cultivators—proud daughters of noble clans and high-tier sects—cried out softly before being forced to kneel. Their backs bent, not from intention, but from pure, crushing aura suppression.

Even those at the Foundation Building Realm were not spared.

Su Mei and Wang Mei, both dressed in elegant silks embroidered with the marks of their respective elite sects, stood at the front of the disciples. They had always walked with pride, heads held high, their gazes usually filled with disdain toward those they considered lesser.

But now—

Su Mei gasped, her hands trembling as she tried to circulate her qi. Her spiritual sea responded sluggishly. Her body felt like it was being crushed by a mountain. A Golden Core cultivator. She had seen one before—an elder of her sect, revered like an immortal. But this—this aura—felt even more suffocating.

Wang Mei fared no better. Her legs gave out first. She fell hard to her knees, biting her lower lip to keep from crying out. A faint trace of blood ran down her chin. "What... what is this pressure?" she murmured.

Then they both looked up.

Meng Hao was walking toward them, step by step. His movement was slow, unhurried. His white robe fluttered in the wind, untouched by the dust storm swirling around him. His hands were still behind his back, his expression as calm as a still pond—but the intensity in his eyes was terrifying.

"Senior," Su Mei croaked, her voice hoarse. "I... I was blind... blind to not see Mount Tai in front of me. Please... give this junior another chance."

She bowed deeply, her forehead pressing to the cracked ground.

Wang Mei looked at her in disbelief, her lips trembling. Never before had she seen Su Mei like this. Begging. Yielding.

Yet Meng Hao’s gaze didn’t soften. If anything, it grew colder. His brows furrowed slightly as a strange thought formed in his mind.

What’s going on? This... this isn’t the script.

His thoughts twisted in unexpected confusion.

She’s supposed to curse me. To threaten me with her sect’s power. Call for her master. Then I kill her in a face-slapping counter. That’s how it goes, right?

He blinked slowly.

Why is she begging instead? Why does she seem smart? This isn’t how it happened in those NovelFires I read... Was everything they wrote in those stories wrong?

For a long moment, Meng Hao simply stared at her. Su Mei dared not raise her head. Her heart pounded so loudly she feared it might burst from her chest.

Wang Mei’s breath was ragged, and her palms bled from how tightly her nails had dug into them. She couldn’t believe this was happening. They had mocked this man. Played politics in the sect. Set traps. Spread rumors. And now...

They were insects before a dragon.

He thought

This Su Mei... with her talent and personality, she could have gone far. But...

She offended the wrong person.

Without another word, Meng Hao raised one hand.

He didn’t need a chant. He didn’t need an incantation. Just a thought—a flicker of intent.

Snap.

His fingers made a sound like lightning in a silent forest.

A pulse of spiritual force spread like a sonic boom across the arena.

BOOM!

In an instant, all the female cultivators behind Su Mei—those who had been laughing at Meng Hao earlier, those who had taken pride in their sects—suddenly convulsed. Their heads shook, their eyes widened.

And then they exploded.

Like overripe fruits crushed under divine pressure, their heads burst open with a sickening squelch. Blood, bone, and brain matter painted the white stone floor in horrific detail. There were no screams—only a deafening silence that followed.

None of them had even realized they were dead.

Gasps erupted from the crowd.

Some disciples fainted on the spot.

Even the elders above, seated on stone thrones surrounded by ancient formations, stirred in alarm.

"What terrifying control..." one of them whispered.

Another, an old man with a red jade seal pinned to his chest, narrowed his eyes. "He didn’t even use a technique. That was pure intent. This isn’t just Golden Core... it’s something more."

In the courtyard, Su Mei and Wang Mei were frozen in horror.

Their sect sisters—gone in the blink of an eye.

Their blood was still warm, splattered across their robes.

Wang Mei let out a choked sob, her vision spinning.

We... we offended a monster...

Su Mei couldn’t breathe properly. Her heart beat so wildly it felt like it would explode. This is it, she thought. We’re next. No one can save us now.

They turned their eyes slowly to Meng Hao—who was now looking directly at them.

His gaze was emotionless. A coldness that reached beyond life and death. They felt as though their souls were being seen and weighed, like criminals before a heavenly tribunal.

Su Mei opened her mouth, barely able to whisper, "Senior, please..."

But Meng Hao spoke before she could finish.

"Regret always comes too late."

The weight of his words sank into their bones.

From the observation deck, one of the higher elders stood abruptly. "This is enough!" he roared. "Meng Hao—"

But then, he paused.

A presence... a chill far colder than Meng Hao’s... descended from the heavens.

The sky cracked.

And a single eye—a vast, golden eye—appeared faintly in the clouds. It watched in silence, exuding no malice, but filled with pressure so immense it caused all beings to instinctively lower their heads.

Even the elder closed his mouth.

Meng Hao tilted his head upward slightly.

The Heavenly Eye... it watches again... he thought.

He looked at Su Mei and Wang Mei once more.

Then, unexpectedly, he turned.

"You will live," he said. "But only once."

With that, the pressure vanished.

The wind stopped. The sky cleared. The Eye faded.

Meng Hao walked away, back straight, robes untouched by blood. His shadow stretched long behind him under the returning sun.

Su Mei collapsed, sobbing quietly.

Wang Mei lay face down, unconscious.

And the entire sect courtyard remained utterly silent—because none dared make a sound in the wake of a dragon’s passing.

As Meng Hao’s figure receded into the distance, the heavy silence he left behind seemed to weigh down on every cultivator present like a boulder on the chest.

The golden eye in the sky had vanished—but its presence lingered like a scar on the world, and in everyone’s hearts. Many of the inner sect disciples remained kneeling, too terrified to stand. Even the elders, those who once considered themselves pillars of the sect, were left exchanging quiet glances.

For them, today’s events shattered more than arrogance. They shattered the structure of power itself.

"Send a message to the Sect Master," one of the senior elders finally said, his voice hushed but firm. "Tell him... Meng Hao has stepped into the Golden Core Realm. No—tell him he has transcended it."

Another elder shook his head. "This boy is not ordinary. His core suppresses even the elders who’ve cultivated for two centuries. That eye in the sky... he may have drawn the attention of beings not of our world."

The thought sent chills down everyone’s spines.

Far below, Su Mei remained sitting on her knees, her head bowed. Her body trembled faintly—not from fear now, but from the aftershock of survival. Her mind was still trying to grasp the fact that she had lived, while so many others were instantly executed like insects.

She felt no joy.

Only shame.

Her pride had been ground to dust. Her belief in her superiority, her noble lineage, her elite training—none of it had mattered. In front of real power, all she could do was beg for her life.

A tear slipped down her cheek. Not because she was alive, but because she finally understood.

The path of cultivation wasn’t about being born into a powerful sect.

It was about becoming the kind of being that even the heavens could not ignore.

Wang Mei groaned beside her, regaining consciousness. She blinked slowly, eyes dazed. "Is... he gone?"

Su Mei didn’t answer.

Instead, she looked toward the horizon where Meng Hao had disappeared.

"He isn’t just gone," she whispered. "He’s... beyond us now."

Far ahead, Meng Hao finally reached the cliff at the sect’s edge. The wind blew freely here, brushing against his face. He looked up at the clear blue sky, a faint smile touching his lips.

He could still feel it—that distant gaze. That golden eye.

So I’ve finally caught your attention, he thought. Good. Watch closely. Because I’m just getting started.