Hunting milfs in cultivation world
Chapter 55: Intruder 1

Chapter 55: Intruder 1

The sharp, bitter wind rustled through the trees as the carriage came to another abrupt halt. Meng Hao let out a long, exasperated sigh, his expression already sour.

"Another group of bandits? Tch... what is this? The tenth time?"

Meng Hao didn’t even lift an eyebrow at the presence of new enemies.

Instead, with the same detached air of royalty watching a performance he had already grown tired of, he leaned further back into the luxuriously padded seat. One leg elegantly crossed over the other, and his elbow rested along the armrest, supporting his cheek lazily. His robes, deep black with silver embroidery, shimmered faintly under the sunlight slipping in from the narrow window slits.

The interior of the carriage was as refined as that of a young master from a noble clan. The wood was lacquered in a deep mahogany hue, carved with auspicious cloud motifs, and inlaid with thin strips of spiritual jade that radiated a subtle warmth. The fragrance of sandalwood permeated the air—a scent that calmed the mind and concealed one’s presence slightly from spirit beasts.

Outside, the world seemed to pause. Even the birdsong had ceased, as if nature itself held its breath in anticipation.

Meng Hao tilted his head lazily and let his gaze linger on the flowing curtains of embroidered spirit silk. They swayed faintly, stirred only by the gentle breath of wind seeping through tiny gaps. Sunlight filtered through the golden-threaded fabric, casting long, rippling shadows across the walls. The entire carriage glowed with a muted luminescence, as if it existed halfway between the mortal world and a cultivator’s dream.

"Well," he thought, sighing softly, "any moment now, I should hear Li Yao tearing them apart. A few shouts. The clash of blades. Maybe even a dramatic scream or two."

It was always the same.

The moment the bandits made their presence known, they’d bark some demands, act arrogant, and then Li Yao would—like the fierce beauty she was—strike them down one by one. If they were foolish enough to peek into the carriage and catch a glimpse of him, they’d usually make some lewd remark, and that alone would seal their fate. A flash of Li Yao’s sword, a cry of agony, and the dirt road would be soaked with blood before the dust could settle.

It had happened nine times already.

"This world really is ridiculous," he mused, closing his eyes briefly. "Bandits every two hours. Do these people have a death wish, or is there some hidden sect that specializes in producing cannon fodder?"

He waited.

And waited.

But this time... nothing came.

No voices. No shouting. No blade unsheathing. Not even a scream.

Just... silence.

Meng Hao’s brows creased slightly. His eyes, once half-lidded and unconcerned, opened fully. A cold flicker passed through them.

"Where’s the fighting?"

He sat up a bit straighter, a vague sense of wrongness creeping in.

The forest beyond the carriage had fallen into an unnatural hush. No insects chirped. No birds cawed. Even the breeze seemed to have fled.

"Did they flee?" he muttered.

That was unlikely. Bandits didn’t run away quietly—not unless something even more terrifying had made them run.

And Li Yao... she wouldn’t let any enemies escape without a fight. Not after how possessively she clung to him, how viciously she reacted to even a passing glance from another woman.

So why was everything so still?

Why hadn’t she returned?

And then, without warning, came the sound he wasn’t expecting.

Creeeeaaaak...

The door of the carriage slowly opened.

Meng Hao’s gaze snapped toward the sound.

What he saw made his brows knit tighter, the expression on his face darkening like storm clouds gathering before a thunderous downpour.

The soft sound of footsteps reached his ears—light as falling petals, yet each step carried a strange rhythm that tugged subtly at the senses. A figure appeared at the entrance of the carriage, and for a moment, time itself seemed to hold its breath.

She entered without hesitation, her every movement flowing like water over polished jade—graceful, feminine, and unmistakably unfamiliar. The flap of the carriage door swayed gently behind her, stirred by a breeze that followed in her wake, almost as if reluctant to let her go.

Her long green robes shimmered faintly in the soft daylight filtering through the trees outside, the fabric so fine it clung to her curves like mist hugging the slopes of an immortal peak. The hem trailed behind her with silken whispers, and the way the garment hugged her hourglass figure made it clear she was no ordinary woman. Whether it was noble lineage or rigorous training in seduction techniques, the aura she radiated was unmistakably refined and dangerously captivating.

Her hair, loose and unbound, tumbled to her shoulders in elegant waves—dark as the midnight sea beneath a new moon. Each strand caught the light and gleamed faintly, swaying with her movements as though even her hair obeyed the rhythm of her allure. Her skin, pale as snow yet warm like living porcelain, glowed softly in the dim interior of the carriage, as if lit from within by spiritual energy. She seemed untouched by dust or fatigue, her presence radiating a quiet authority and seductive calm.

But before her full figure even entered the small confines of the carriage, what caught the eye first was her leg—graceful and smooth, emerging like a secret revealed. One step forward, and a slit along the side of her flowing robe parted just enough to unveil a snow-white thigh, firm and enticing, with a natural sheen like polished jade under moonlight. The sight was fleeting, but it seared itself into the air like incense smoke curling through an altar—elegant, provocative, and impossible to ignore.

Meng Hao’s gaze flickered as the unfamiliar woman seated herself across from him with the casualness of someone who belonged there. His pupils narrowed slightly, and his body instinctively tensed.

His widened eyes did not stem from desire, but something far deeper—caution.

Wariness.

The kind born from instinct sharpened through experience, and a clear understanding that anything so flawless... could not be trusted easily.

"Who the hell is this woman?" he thought. "Where’s Li Yao? Why did she let this stranger into the carriage without even a warning? What the hell happened outside...?"

He immediately began drawing spiritual energy inward. Though outwardly composed, inwardly he was already preparing to fight.

"Tch. Li Yao, you’ve really disappointed me. I thought you were the possessive type... yet here I am, with a mysterious beauty just waltzing in."

But he didn’t let any of that show. His face remained calm, with only a hint of confusion in his eyes as he slowly uncrossed his legs and began to rise.

Before he could fully stand, the woman’s voice drifted toward him like warm spring rain—soft, sultry, and laced with hidden amusement.

"I’ve been waiting to meet you for quite some time, boy."

She licked her lips as she spoke, taking a slow, deliberate step forward.

Meng Hao’s body tensed immediately.

That voice—it wasn’t just alluring. It was... dangerous.

She spoke with the poise of someone completely in control, someone who wasn’t merely confident—but powerful.

"What the hell? I’ve never seen this woman in my life. Why would someone like this say she’s been waiting for me?"

His mind raced, and his usual detached amusement was quickly replaced with a growing sense of unease. The air around her didn’t contain any spiritual pressure—yet the sheer presence she carried was heavier than any aura he had faced before.

Meng Hao gave a polite, if not slightly forced, smile.

"May I ask who Your Highness is... and why you’ve been waiting for me?"

He tilted his head slightly, his voice calm, respectful—but every word laced with alertness.

"And might I also ask," he continued, tone sharpening ever so subtly, "what gives you the right to simply walk into my carriage uninvited?"

While he spoke, he continued to gather spiritual energy into his legs. A trick not many golden core realm cultivators could execute properly.Though he couldn’t fly indefinitely like a Nascent Soul cultivator, he could accelerate—burst forward with enough speed to mimic a higher realm for a short moment.

It would be his only real chance if she turned out hostile.

But just as he finished preparing—

She laughed.

A gentle, melodic laugh that sounded neither mocking nor angry. Yet it sent chills down his spine.

"Ohhh... such childish tricks," she said, as though reading his thoughts.

Meng Hao’s pupils contracted slightly.

"She... saw through it."

In that moment, he knew. All pretense faded from his face as the smile dropped from his lips.

She had seen through his plan as easily as flipping a page in a book.

This wasn’t just a flirtatious cultivator or a bold female bandit. No, this woman was something else entirely—someone who, by all logic, shouldn’t be here.

The only people capable of seeing through his energy flow at a glance were cultivators at the very peak—Nascent Soul or beyond.

Meng Hao’s mind raced.

"Why is someone this powerful here? Did she follow me? Was I really that careless? Or... is this something bigger?"

She didn’t speak again immediately. Instead, she slowly closed the carriage door behind her, as if sealing off the world outside.

Then, she looked directly into his eyes.

And in her eyes, he saw something .

Not rage.

Not lust.

But amusement.

She was enjoying this.