Hunting milfs in cultivation world
Chapter 54: Journey 1

Chapter 54: Journey 1

The morning sun rose slowly from beyond the distant mountains, casting golden rays across the forest canopy. Shafts of sunlight broke through the leaves like divine fingers touching the earth, illuminating the dew-kissed ground and painting the winding dirt road in shades of gold and green.

A flock of birds burst into the sky in a flurry of wings, startled by the thunderous cadence of hooves pounding against the earthen road.

Dada-dada-dada...

The sound echoed through the ancient forest like rolling war drums. From the dense treetops to the moss-covered underbrush, tranquility shattered as a lone carriage hurtled down the narrow woodland path, flanked by towering pines and tangled vines. Drawn by two spirit horses, their silvery manes streaming behind them like banners in the wind, the vehicle surged forward at a breakneck pace, leaving a whirlwind of dust and scattered leaves in its wake.

Startled woodland creatures—deer, foxes, squirrels, and even a few lesser spirit beasts—scattered in every direction, vanishing into the shadows of the forest to escape the rumbling advance.

At the front of the carriage, a young girl sat upright, hands steady on the reins. Her figure was slender but graceful, wrapped in a simple yet fitted robe. A wide-brimmed hat shielded her face from the glare of the rising sun, though a few rebellious strands of her tied-back hair had escaped the knot and now fluttered freely in the rushing wind.

Her eyes—partially hidden beneath the hat—remained calm, sharp, and focused. There was no fear in her bearing, no panic in her grip. Though the horses galloped at full speed, she sat like a veteran driver—unshaken, composed, and clearly accustomed to traversing dangerous roads.

Inside the carriage, nestled on a cushioned seat like a lazy prince of a noble family, Meng Hao lounged with his head resting on both hands. The luxurious interior rocked lightly with the motion of the road, but his eyes remained half-lidded, lost in thought.

Inside the softly swaying carriage, Meng Hao lounged against the silk-padded cushions, arms folded behind his head. The golden morning light filtered through the half-drawn curtains, casting dappled patterns on the interior woodwork. He let out a long, exasperated sigh.

"Sigh... It’s really no easy task to sneak out of a major sect unnoticed," he muttered to himself, lips curling into a wry, self-deprecating smile.

The carriage rocked slightly as it rounded a bend, the wheels creaking faintly beneath the weight, and the seat beneath him shifted ever so slightly. He adjusted his position with practiced laziness, one knee propped up, the other leg stretched out, a picture of refined indifference.

"Avoiding the patrol team was the worst part," he continued his quiet monologue, voice low and thoughtful. "Those bastards have been crawling all over every exit path like ants around spilled honey... for weeks now."

His brows drew together in mild frustration, eyes narrowing slightly as he recalled the tense days leading up to his escape.

"Can’t really blame them though," he admitted, clicking his tongue against his teeth. "It was my own damn fault. If only I’d been more subtle during that last breakthrough..."

The memory flashed in his mind—spiritual energy surging like a tidal wave, drawing attention from every cultivator within miles. The sky trembling, the air pulsing... it had been magnificent, yes—but also reckless.

"If I hadn’t let those spiritual fluctuations leak out like a beacon, I wouldn’t be in this mess."

He exhaled again, his expression shifting into a thoughtful calm as the forest road stretched on ahead, the rhythmic galloping of the spirit horses filling the silence like a heartbeat.

He shook his head, dismissing the frustration like dust on his sleeve, and leaned deeper into the cushions. The carriage’s gentle sway lulled him into a state of lazy satisfaction as he stretched his legs out, settling into an almost regal sprawl.

"But whatever... that’s all in the past now," he murmured, letting his eyes fall half-shut as the rhythmic clatter of wheels filled the silence. "The important thing is—I’ve successfully slipped away."

Outside, the morning light continued to filter through the dense canopy, casting flickering shadows that danced across the carriage walls. Leaves rustled, birds sang in the distance—but inside, only one thought pulsed in Meng Hao’s mind.

The corners of his lips slowly curled upward.

A smirk—dark and satisfied—began to form.

"Now I’m on my way to Blazing Sun City..."

His fingers tapped against the armrest lightly, his expression growing more wicked by the second.

"The hometown of Li Yao... and more importantly—her mother."

A glint of anticipation flickered in his eyes like a candle suddenly catching wind.

"My ticket to a full one thousand years of cultivation."

As the thought echoed through his mind, a soft laugh escaped him—low, smooth, and full of hidden intent. The kind of laugh that didn’t belong to a naïve youth, but to a predator circling closer to its prey.

He laced his fingers behind his head and reclined further, gazing up at the carved wooden ceiling of the carriage as if already picturing the success that lay ahead.

A low chuckle escaped his throat, quiet and dark.

He tilted his head slightly, eyes half-lidded as he gazed at the ornate silk lining the ceiling of the carriage. His expression was unreadable at first—relaxed, thoughtful—but soon a sly glint surfaced in his eyes, mischief twinkling like moonlight on the edge of a dagger.

"Heh... I really can’t control myself when it comes to top-grade MILFs..."

The thought played like a guilty pleasure across his lips, a low chuckle escaping him as his imagination drifted toward the enticing curves and seasoned charm of Li Yao’s mother.

But before the fantasy could reach its peak, reality came crashing back.

SCREEEEECH!

The sudden screech of wood grinding against stone and the sharp whinny of spirit horses tore through the peaceful forest.

The carriage jolted violently, nearly lifting off its back wheels before slamming down again. Dust exploded around the wheels as the entire vehicle rocked sideways, the reins yanked taut in the driver’s hands.

Caught completely off guard, Meng Hao was flung forward.

His limbs flailed slightly before he managed to twist his torso and grab the edge of the armrest, barely avoiding an ungraceful tumble across the floor.

The cushions, once a throne of comfort, now pressed awkwardly against his side as the vehicle came to a jarring halt.

He sat there for a beat—shoulders tense, teeth clenched—before slowly straightening up.

His face, once amused and relaxed, had twisted into a scowl of barely-contained irritation.

"Damn it! Again?!" he growled, brushing dust off his sleeve.

A vein twitched at his temple. He took in a slow breath through his nose, exhaled sharply, and muttered under his breath.

"This is getting out of hand..."

He rubbed the bridge of his nose and glanced out through the curtained window, already anticipating what lay ahead.

"What the hell is wrong with this road?! Why are there bandits showing up every couple of hours like scheduled guests?!"

Through the half-curtained window, he could already hear crude voices shouting from ahead—bandits demanding the carriage to stop, threatening the driver, trying to sound fierce.

Meng Hao rubbed his temple with annoyance.

"This is ridiculous... How do ordinary people even survive in this world?"

His teeth clenched as he thought back over the journey so far.

Since departing from the sect, he had been ambushed by no fewer than nine different bandit groups. Nine! And all of them had followed the exact same script: they block the road, demand to see what’s inside the carriage, threaten to peek inside the carrige—and then it all ends the same way.

Every time, Li Yao dealt with them.

At first, Meng Hao had been amused. But by now, the routine had grown so stale he could recite it in his sleep.

"They demand we open the carriage... Li Yao warns them to back off..."

"Then one of the idiots always ignores the warning, flings open the carriage door, sees me..."

"And then their eyes go wild with lust. Every. Single. Time."

"They try something stupid..."

"And they die. Miserably. Li Yao makes sure of that."

He let out a loud sigh of boredom.

"Out of the nine times, this exact thing has happened four times already. It’s like some twisted, recycled comedy act."

He crossed his arms and leaned back again with a sigh.

"I really hope this batch of bandits has something new to offer. If they act like the last four, I might just lose what little faith I have left in this world."

But the most absurd part, to Meng Hao, wasn’t even the bandits’ persistence—it was their cultivation level.

"Most of them are barely even worth mentioning. First or second level of Qi Gathering Realm? Seriously?"

He scoffed.

"Even their so-called leaders—fifth, maybe sixth level at best. Trash among trash. How do these people survive long enough to gather a group, let alone have the guts to rob travelers?"

He shook his head.

"And don’t even get me started on the female bandits... cute faces, decent figures, but utterly useless in combat. Still, their luck in avoiding death until now must be heaven-defying."

Another sigh.

Another curse.