Spiritual Energy Revival (9): 

Gu Juntian lay motionless on the bed, pretending to be deeply asleep, but inside he felt as if a raging storm had erupted.

When Zhou Qinghao examined his body, he had thought Zhou was a deeply filial son, and he was moved by it.

Who would have imagined that right after that, Zhou Qinghao would kiss him.

Did Zhou Qinghao know what he was doing?

Had Zhou Qinghao gone mad?

Countless thoughts flashed through Gu Juntian’s mind, yet he remained still.

He couldn’t move.

His spiritual sense was incredibly strong, so even though Zhou had used a drug on him, his consciousness stayed perfectly clear.

But his body had succumbed to Zhou’s drug, leaving him unable to get up.

All he could do was lie there, letting Zhou Qinghao kiss him.

Yes, Zhou didn’t stop at one kiss. After his lips, Zhou began kissing softly at the corner of his mouth, then lightly all over his face.

Zhou’s movements were feather-light, careful, as though Gu Juntian were some sacred treasure not to be defiled.

Gu Juntian couldn’t quite process it.

Looking like such an old man as he did now, Zhou Qinghao had still crept in at night to kiss him… What kind of taste was that?

There were people in this world who were naturally drawn to the elderly—could Zhou Qinghao be one of them?

Did Zhou Qinghao actually like him?

As Gu Juntian’s thoughts spun wildly, Zhou Qinghao sat upright, regaining his composure.

Just now, upon discovering how terribly frail Gu Juntian’s body was, he had lost control and kissed him.

Now, he despised himself.

He had actually taken advantage of his foster father’s unconscious state to steal kisses—utterly shameless.

But his foster father was dying.

The thought of that sent a wave of panic through Zhou’s heart.

He didn’t want Gu Juntian to die.

Was there any way to save him?

Zhou pondered for a long time, but found no answer.

After erasing all traces of his visit, he slipped away quietly.

Once Zhou had left, Gu Juntian could no longer focus on cultivation.

Zhou Qinghao liked him! After realizing that, how could he possibly settle down to cultivate?

No—perhaps it wasn’t him Zhou liked, but the original host.

Gu Juntian carefully reviewed the original host’s memories and indeed found some signs.

Ten years ago, after the original host saved Zhou Qinghao, Zhou had become very close to him. Before the battle with the evil spirit, there was even a time when Zhou refused to call him foster father, and seemed very concerned about his relationships.

Could it be that seven years ago, Zhou had already developed feelings for the original host?

A boy of fifteen or sixteen—just the age when love first blossoms…

Later, after the original host was gravely injured, Zhou had stayed by his side, tending to him with care. Even when the original host had a terrible temper, Zhou never complained. He had even given his blood for the original host to drink.

For the past seven years, Zhou had obeyed him in everything, fulfilling every demand.

Had Zhou always liked the original host?

In the original plot, the host had poisoned Zhou, set up formations in his room—things Zhou shouldn’t have known about. And yet, with his strength, when the host kidnapped him, Zhou could have turned the tables and killed him.

But he hadn’t.

Gu Juntian had always thought Zhou acted that way out of gratitude for saving his life. But now he realized—it was because Zhou liked the host.

But the host had never treated Zhou kindly. How could Zhou still like him?

What kind of taste was that?

Fortunately, now he had become the host, and he would treat Zhou Qinghao well.

The moment he transmigrated, he had fallen for Zhou Qinghao at first sight.

He hadn’t pursued him before, feeling that as his foster father, it would be shameless to do so.

But since Zhou liked him, then so be it—shameless or not.

He had to confess before Zhou did!

Gu Juntian waited until morning, when the drug Zhou used finally wore off.

He got up and went to wash.

Looking at his reflection in the mirror, he couldn’t help sighing again—what kind of taste did Zhou have, to even like an old man like him?

Still, if Zhou didn’t mind his appearance, then that was all the better.

Just as he was about to message Zhou, someone knocked on the door. He opened it and found Zhou standing there.

Zhou was carrying food in his hands. “Foster father, I went to the cafeteria and brought you breakfast.”

Seeing the food, Gu Juntian felt a moment of panic, afraid Zhou had mixed blood into it.

Fortunately, a sweep with his spiritual sense confirmed it was just ordinary cafeteria meals.

He invited Zhou into his room to eat.

Since Zhou had already come in last night and found nothing unusual, there was no need to keep barring him now.

Zhou’s expression was still icy cold, utterly unlike his warmth from the night before.

Remembering all those delicate kisses, Gu Juntian’s old face flushed red.

He forced himself to remain composed, sharing breakfast with Zhou.

Afterwards, he went to his office, though all the while his mind was filled with thoughts of Zhou.

How should he pursue him?

He had nothing to give Zhou, except perhaps more cultivation techniques and spells he devised himself.

In recent days, Gu Juntian had revised all of the Bureau’s techniques and given pointers to several new recruits.

Originally, he had planned to continue, mentoring every newcomer. But now he had no such intention.

He visited the training ground, briefly assessed the remaining recruits’ conditions, told them which methods suited them best, then left them to cultivate on their own.

From then on, he devoted himself to developing spells specifically for Zhou.

Zhou used a blade—perhaps he should design a set of sword techniques for him first?

While Gu Juntian busied himself, Zhou Qinghao was also occupied.

After examining Gu Juntian’s body, he knew the spiritual treasures and even his own blood were useless—at best they could ease his pain a little and extend his life briefly.

But that meant little. That must be why his foster father had rejected his offerings.

How then could his foster father survive?

Zhou returned to the Bureau’s archives, to the section storing various cultivation methods.

He searched for a long time but found nothing useful.

Yet the more he looked, the more he realized something was wrong.

There seemed to be fewer techniques here.

A year ago, he had slain a demonic cultivator who, facing death, had devised a method for body possession, even experimenting on children in order to seize a youthful body with great potential.

After killing him, Zhou had brought back his belongings to the Bureau, including his notes.

In them, the man had written extensively about his possession experiments.

Such heretical things should have been destroyed.

But the Bureau had preserved them, reasoning that records might help in future cases.

Now, that notebook was missing.

Had someone taken it? Who could it be?

An image of his foster father surfaced in Zhou’s mind.

His foster father had always wanted to survive. Others might not know, but Zhou knew it clearly.

And according to the gatekeepers, he came here often.

Could it be that his foster father intended to use possession to live on?

Zhou’s heart sank. His first instinct was to stop him.

All his life he had been taught never to harm the innocent.

So from now on, he would have to keep an eye on his foster father, to prevent him from making a mistake.

But without possession, his foster father would die.

Could possession be done on the dead?

No—his foster father might not be planning that. The missing notebook could have vanished for some other reason.

Zhou shook himself out of his thoughts and found his phone filled with messages from his foster father.

He was asking what Zhou was doing, inviting him to dinner, asking what he wanted to eat.

He even said he would cook for him himself.

Recently, his foster father’s attitude toward him had grown warmer and warmer—something felt off.

Zhou froze for a moment.

His foster father was proud, and valued strength highly.

If he truly intended possession, he might not choose a child. He might well choose someone powerful and exceptionally gifted.

So who would his foster father target?

The most gifted person in the world was him.

The thought flashed through his mind, then he dismissed it.

It was only speculation, nothing more.