Hunting milfs in cultivation world

Inside the secluded mountain palace nestled deep within the sinister sprawl of the Heavenly Demon Sect, the atmosphere hung thick with tension and demonic pressure. A layer of eerie fog clung low to the ground, curling between black stone columns and vanishing into the cold shadows of ancient walls. In the heart of this ominous chamber, high atop Demonic Blood Serpent Mountain, a woman sat cross-legged, veiled in an aura of death and madness.

Her name was Mo Xue.

She was the Sect Master of the Heavenly Demon Sect—feared across the continent, dreaded even among the demonic cultivators themselves. Her presence could silence a battlefield, her gaze alone enough to cow rogue Nascent Soul cultivators.

She was cultivating.

The moon above the peak had turned crimson, its blood-like hue reflecting in her half-lidded eyes. Her black and crimson robes, embroidered with ancient serpentine patterns, fluttered despite the windless air. Long silvery hair, streaked with shimmering white like blades of frozen moonlight, draped behind her like a waterfall of cold elegance.

Around her floated dozens of scarlet spirit crystals—crystalline remnants of slain enemies, each one infused with the wailing souls of those who had perished in agony. They spun slowly in an ominous orbit, their soft glow casting twisted shadows on the cave's walls.

Blood mist swirled in the air.

With each breath she drew, a deep crimson hue would gather at her chest before dispersing like smoke. The aura around her was a living thing—breathing, pulsing, exuding dread. Her veins glowed faintly black beneath her skin, pulsing in rhythm with the demonic scripture she cultivated—the Thousand Vein Blood Scripture.

The room was soaked in killing intent.

"Sect Master," The Spy said softly, "my report is not yet complete."

Mo Xue's brows twitched slightly. "What else?"

The spy hesitated for a breath before replying. "It concerns Young Sect Lady Mo Zhou."

Mo Xue's lips curled slightly in amusement. "She's brought a new man into the sect, hasn't she?"

The black-clad spy nodded. "Yes, Sect Master."

Mo Xue leaned back, draping one arm over the armrest of her obsidian lotus throne. Her tone was lazy, almost dismissive. "She's still young. Let her indulge in some youthful pleasure. A few pretty boys here and there… it's harmless. She'll discard them once she's bored. That's always been her nature."

But the informant didn't respond.

Her silence was heavy.

Mo Xue narrowed her eyes. "Speak."

"This time," the informant said slowly, "it appears she is… emotionally involved. Deeply."

Mo Xue's relaxed expression evaporated.

The air turned colder.

"What did you say?"

The informant lowered her head further, her voice barely above a whisper, though it carried an unmistakable weight.

"The Young Sect Lady has not shown such behavior in the past," she began cautiously. "She does not simply toy with this man as she's done with others. She spends time with him—openly, unreservedly. She protects him. She speaks with him alone for extended hours… not in a fleeting or casual manner, but with calm attentiveness. She's even granted him residence in her personal courtyard."

The chamber was silent.

Only the distant howl of a spirit wind disturbed the stillness outside the cave-palace, echoing through the mountain range like a phantom's wail. Within the crimson-lit chamber, Mo Xue remained motionless on her obsidian lotus throne, her long silver-streaked hair cascading over her shoulders like moonlit chains of silk.

The crystals floating around her—those sealed with tormented souls—flickered dimly, reacting to the subtle shift in her aura.

"There are even signs…" the informant continued, pausing as though hesitant to say it aloud, "…of genuine affection."

That word—affection—seemed to resonate strangely in the chamber.

For a breathless moment, there was no sound. The air grew heavier.

A long pause followed. Mo Xue didn't speak.

Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, the crimson pupils seeming to deepen in color. The warmth, if any, in her expression vanished entirely. Her fingers draped over the armrest of her throne stiffened slightly, and the veins along her arm pulsed with demonic rhythm beneath her pale skin.

The silence dragged on—oppressive, suffocating.

Then finally, Mo Xue's lips moved.

Her voice was low, quiet, and bone-chillingly calm. "She's… fallen for him?"

She didn't shout. She didn't show outrage.

Yet, the very air quivered.

Even the ghostly murmurs of the dead within the blood crystals seemed to hush at that moment, as if afraid.

The informant didn't dare lift her gaze. She bowed even lower, the tip of her veil touching the cold stone floor.

"All current signs suggest so, Sect Master," she replied steadily, her voice careful yet resolute. "This is not one of her games."

Mo Xue sat unmoving, but inside, a storm began to brew.

Her gaze turned to the dancing candle flames nearby, watching them flicker under the pressure of her growing spiritual intent.

She had raised Mo Zhou to be dominant, to be above attachments. Love, she had taught, was a weapon—dangerous if held wrongly. To hear now that her daughter, one who had always viewed men as little more than playthings to be used and discarded, had grown emotionally attached to a stranger…

It was troubling.

Deeply troubling.

Mo Xue was silent again, but this time, her fingers curled inward, nails scratching lightly against the surface of her throne. Her crimson eyes lost their amusement and gained something sharp—cold calculation mixed with mild dread.

"Having fun is one thing," she muttered, "but falling for some unknown boy? That… is not good for her cultivation."

She turned her gaze toward the informant. "Have you seen him?"

"No, Sect Master."

Mo Xue narrowed her eyes. "Then go. Keep an eye on him. Observe everything—his manner, his background, his cultivation… his intentions. Report back in full. If this boy is truly capable of turning Mo Zhou's heart, then either he is dangerous, or she is weak."

The informant bowed deeply. "As you command."

She vanished into the shadows, leaving only Mo Xue behind.

A long silence settled over the chamber once more.

Mo Xue closed her eyes again, but her thoughts stirred violently beneath her calm surface. "What kind of boy could cause her to lose control? I know my daughter. She has no patience for love. She toys with men like cats with mice. She violates those she finds interesting… tortures those she finds fun…"

Her expression darkened further.

"…and now she's fallen for someone? If she breaks through because of this emotion, good. If she stagnates… then I'll have to intervene. This 'love'—if left unchecked—might become a poison in her Dao."

With that final thought, she returned to her meditation, but her mind no longer found the same tranquility as before.

Meanwhile, within the quiet courtyard nestled deep within another peak of the sect, Meng Hao rested lazily in the room Mo Zhou had arranged for him.

The decor was extravagant—silken drapes swayed with the breeze, casting layered moonlight across the polished jade floor. Tall candles burned with blue flame, giving the room a ghostly glow. Rare spiritual flowers bloomed on a table nearby, their petals pulsing faintly with qi.

And in the center of it all, Meng Hao lay sprawled upon a massive cloud-patterned silk bed, arms folded behind his head.

His gaze was serene.

A golden panel hovered above him, casting faint light upon his face. The System Mall shimmered with countless items—treasures that would cause wars in the outside world. Bloodline fruits, immortal armors, Dao Scripture scrolls, spirit beasts sealed in crystal eggs… all of it. An unimaginable trove of wealth.

And yet, all of it was locked behind one cruel wall.

[Insufficient Cultivation Years]

Meng Hao's brow twitched.

His gaze didn't waver, but a bitter smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Damn it," he muttered, flicking through the options lazily. "All this in front of me… and I can't buy a single thing. What's the point of having a heaven-defying system if you're too poor to use it?"

He sighed dramatically and stretched.

"I need cultivation years. I need them fast. Otherwise…" His tone turned sarcastic. "…I'll die from poverty."

He let out a soft chuckle at his own misery.

The golden glow of the system panel reflected off his eyes—clear, intelligent, and cold with purpose. "No more waiting. Mo Zhou's charm stat should at least give me Divine Transformation realm cultivation years. That'll let me unlock the intermediate-tier rewards. After that…"

His smirk deepened.

"…I'll find a way to meet Li Yao's mother."

At that moment, a faint breeze stirred the room.Meng hao didn't know about the shadow.

Unnoticed by him, a shadow had landed silently on the roof above. Draped in black, eyes hidden beneath a veil of shadow silk, the same spy who had reported to Mo Xue now crouched like a silent predator, peering through the tiles with a near-invisible spiritual technique.

She observed him closely.

His every breath, his lazy expression, the flicker in his eyes—everything.

And deep within the shadows, she made her first assessment.