Hunting milfs in cultivation world

Meng Hao, having entered the grand jade hall of the Sixth Peak, remained calm amidst the stares and whispers of the gathered female disciples. Many pairs of eyes observed him with varying degrees of curiosity, surprise, and even a trace of disdain. But he ignored them all.

Even when his eyes met the gaze of Li Yao—who was standing not far away, her brows furrowed with obvious confusion—he remained unmoved. He gave her no nod of recognition, no acknowledgment, only a calm, indifferent expression. His focus was elsewhere. He had not come here to explain himself.

Just as the murmurs began to settle, the quiet hall was pierced by the slow, deliberate creak of heavy doors opening.

All attention immediately turned toward the entrance.

From beyond the polished jade doors, a figure emerged—a woman clad in flowing robes the color of deep sunset orange, her presence commanding and cold. Her robes trailed along the smooth marble floor, brushing against it like waves across still water. Her long black hair, untied, flowed freely down to her shoulders, swaying gently with each step she took. In her right hand, she held a slender sword, its blade shimmering faintly with a silvery-blue hue that seemed to chill the very air around it.

Her eyes were sharp and cold, like twin blades of ice, and her expression unreadable. It was as though she carried with her the weight of a thousand winters.

The disciples froze.

As one, they bowed in unison, their voices echoing through the hall:

"We greet Peak Master Su Lan!"

Su Lan, without uttering a word, gave a slight nod in acknowledgment. Her gaze swept over the gathered disciples, pausing for only a moment as it passed over Meng Hao, then continuing. With silent poise, she made her way to the raised platform at the far end of the hall, where a single throne carved from moonstone stood like a queen's seat amidst stars.

Taking her place upon it, she sat gracefully, sword resting on her lap.

A heavy silence followed.

Then, her cold voice rang out, devoid of warmth and emotion.

"As you all know... the traditions of the past shall not change."

As she spoke, she stood once more, descending from her throne with slow, deliberate steps. Her footsteps echoed in the stillness, each one ringing like a chime of warning.

She halted at the edge of the platform and swept her gaze once more across the crowd before speaking, her voice firm and absolute:

"All female disciples with less than 2000 points—leave now."

The air instantly shifted.

The declaration caused visible reactions among many of the girls present. Some sighed in resignation, shoulders drooping with defeat. Others left with downcast eyes, their hopes dashed yet not surprised. A few looked bitter, clearly having expected this outcome yet still feeling the sting of rejection. One by one, they turned and began leaving the hall, footsteps soft and reluctant.

And soon, the crowd thinned.

In their absence, only eight disciples remained—seven girls and one boy.

Meng Hao stood motionless.

He hadn't moved, not because he had been exempted, but because Su Lan's command had been directed only at the female disciples. As the others glanced at him, some puzzled, some amused, none dared speak aloud.

Su Lan, now standing once more before her throne, observed those who remained.

Her eyes paused on Li Yao, and a faint flicker of approval touched her icy gaze.

"Li Yao," she said, her voice slightly softer but no less commanding.

"Sixth-level cultivation, yet you defeated three who were ranked above you. From this moment forward, you shall be my eighth personal disciple."

A murmur of surprise stirred in the group. Though most remained silent, a few expressions darkened with disappointment. It was clear that some among the remaining disciples had also hoped to gain that title—but now, that hope was gone.

Li Yao, however, blinked once in surprise, then quickly lowered her head with a smile.

"Thank you, Master."

Su Lan gave a short nod of acknowledgment before sweeping her gaze across the rest.

"The rest of you shall be accepted as inner disciples of the Sixth Peak. Do you all understand?"

The response came immediately.

"Yes, Peak Master!" they replied, voices united—though a few bore the bitter weight of crushed ambition.

Then, Su Lan turned her gaze once more, this time sharp and direct—toward Meng Hao.

"All of you may leave... except you."

Her tone was cold and final, brooking no argument.

The disciples hesitated for only a moment before filing out, glancing back at Meng Hao with a mixture of curiosity and confusion. Their steps echoed as they left the hall behind.

Even Li Yao, her eyes lingering on Meng Hao for a heartbeat longer than the others, looked puzzled. There was something unreadable in her gaze—was it concern, or perhaps doubt? Still, she said nothing, and followed the others out.

The great doors of the hall slowly closed behind them with a heavy thud, sealing the space once more in silence.

Now, only two figures remained.

Meng Hao stood alone in the center of the hall, beneath the light of floating spirit orbs that glowed like silent stars. Su Lan stood on the dais above, her eyes now locked fully on him.

There was a long moment of silence.

Then, her voice echoed softly across the chamber.

"Meng Hao."

She did not speak further. Instead, she examined him in silence, her gaze moving from the top of his head to the soles of his feet—analyzing, measuring, judging. Her sword glimmered faintly in the light, and her eyes, sharp as blades, betrayed nothing.

The test had only just begun.