Spiritual Energy Revival (10): 

Zhou Qinghao replied to Gu Juntian, saying he liked to eat anything.

Today, Gu Juntian kept glancing at his phone, waiting for Zhou Qinghao’s reply. When the message finally came, he immediately started a conversation with Zhou.

He didn’t know much about the outside world, so he could only talk about matters related to the Bureau of Monster Control.

The original host had made many enemies. Worried that going out might be dangerous, he had basically not left the Bureau for the past seven years.

It had been a very, very long time since Zhou Qinghao had chatted idly with his foster father.

He was happy, yet a little uneasy.

Why had his foster father suddenly become so close to him?

When Zhou arrived at Gu Juntian’s place, he found Gu chopping vegetables.

Seeing him, Gu smiled and said, “Qinghao, last time I cooked I used the rare ingredients you brought back, so I couldn’t really show my skills. Today I’ll make you something truly tasty.”

Zhou was from the south and preferred lighter flavors, so Gu stir-fried two vegetarian dishes, stewed a tofu soup with a big fish head, and braised the rest of the fish.

As he cooked, Gu chatted with him: “Qinghao, I remember you loved fish when you were little and even wrote about it in your diary. Do you still like it now?”

“Back then, you loved mixing rice with fish soup.”

“I added some pepper to the fish-head tofu soup. I remember you liked that—you always sprinkled pepper on the soup.”

…

Zhou had always loved fish, and he did indeed like pepper.

Mainly, his parents loved it. He ate with them, and over time he grew to love it too.

The Bureau cafeteria rarely served fish, much less fish soup, so after joining the Bureau, he seldom ate fish.

Back then, when he was taking online classes at the Bureau, a teacher assigned an essay, and he wrote about his mother’s fish-head tofu soup and braised fish.

His foster father happened to read that essay, then bought a bighead carp and made the soup and braised fish for him.

That image was etched deep in his heart, and he hadn’t expected his foster father to still remember.

To his foster father, he must also be very important.

“Try it and see if it tastes the same,” Gu said with a smile, inviting Zhou to eat.

Zhou mixed his rice with fish soup and ate obediently, glancing at Gu after every bite.

Gu unconsciously sat up straight, wanting to present his best self to Zhou, but quickly realized that, as he was now, he was just an old man—no matter how he presented himself, he still looked like an old man.

But Zhou absolutely, truly loved him. Despite his face full of wrinkles, Zhou kept looking at him again and again.

Gu couldn’t help it and looked at Zhou as well.

Their gazes met, and he smiled at Zhou.

Zhou’s heart pounded like a drum.

When his foster father had been cold to him before, he could still suppress his feelings. Now that his foster father was warm to him, he could no longer hold them back.

But the two of them could never be together.

Watching Zhou carefully, Gu naturally saw the affection in his eyes.

Zhou was absolutely head over heels for him.

He would nurture their feelings for a while, then confess.

As for how to build that affection…

After dinner, while Zhou was washing the dishes, Gu spoke up: “Qinghao, shall we watch a movie together?”

Zhou agreed. “Okay. What do you want to watch, foster father?”

“You pick something you like,” Gu said. The original host had seldom watched movies, and Gu had nothing in particular he wanted to see.

“I haven’t really watched many movies,” Zhou said.

When he was little, his parents often took him to the cinema, but since joining the Bureau, he had hardly watched any.

The two of them looked at each other.

Gu had thought of suggesting they go to the theater, but it was a bit far. And if the two of them went together and others at the Bureau found out, who knew what they would think.

In the end, Gu casually picked a movie, and they watched it together.

It was a comedy from over a decade ago.

Ever since the resurgence of spiritual energy, popular films were all tied to demons and spirits, with even the Bureau frequently appearing.

Worst of all, the monsters in those movies often fell in love with Bureau staff.

They wanted nothing to do with such films and firmly refused to watch them.

The comedy was decent, but being over a decade old, some parts felt awkward.

They finished the movie in silence, and Zhou took his leave.

Gu felt something was off.

A movie date ought to be romantic, but between him and Zhou there always seemed to be a layer separating them.

Was it because of their foster father–son relationship?

Should he confess sooner and break that barrier?

After some inner struggle, Gu went to cultivate.

Better to prioritize restoring his health.

After leaving Gu, Zhou’s mind became clear.

He often went on missions to handle all kinds of demons and spirits, which meant he frequently noticed subtle clues others missed.

Looking back, the more he thought, the more he felt that the current Gu Juntian was suspicious.

In fact, even in the previous years, his foster father’s behavior hadn’t been quite right.

Could his foster father really be planning to seize another’s body?

He wouldn’t share his suspicions with others, but he had to get to the bottom of it.

Zhou’s authority within the Bureau was second only to Gu’s.

That night, he went to the Bureau’s warehouse again, checked every storeroom except the “high-risk” one, and reviewed the related records. He discovered that many items were missing.

He had once encountered a person whose soul had left their body after contact with a “Soul-Leaving Stone.”

This stone didn’t harm the spirit, so it wasn’t considered highly dangerous and had been stored in the “medium-risk” warehouse—now it was gone.

Several other soul-related items had also vanished without a trace, and the entry logs were completely blank.

Even the records of those items entering storage had been wiped, as if he had never brought back the Soul-Leaving Stone at all.

The Soul-Leaving Stone…

Government departments are normally overseen by supervisors, but the Bureau’s situation is unique; ordinary people can’t supervise it. As for letting cultivators do it… Zhou was one of the strongest cultivators in the country. Only a Buddhist master who had a sudden enlightenment after the resurgence and an elder of the Xuan Sect could rival him.

They certainly couldn’t have the Xuan Sect supervise the Bureau.

The Bureau’s property was entirely in its own hands, and the director could easily take things from the warehouse.

Many of the missing items were connected to body possession, and Zhou grew ever more alert.

He decided to check the “high-risk” warehouse.

The high-risk vault wasn’t open to casual entry, but for Zhou, sneaking in wasn’t difficult.

It was built from special materials and layered with many formations.

He hadn’t set the earliest formations, but the current ones had been laid by him.

Avoiding the gatekeepers, Zhou slipped into the high-risk vault.

Things were missing here as well.

Having grown up in the Bureau, Zhou knew the high-risk inventory well.

Now, the items capable of damaging a person’s soul were all gone.

They were probably taken by his foster father.

Among all those items, the most terrifying was the netherstone milk.

It had been found in a gloomy, ghostly stalactite cave and inflicted severe harm on the soul— even cultivators who touched it would have unstable spirits.

Most of it had been destroyed at the time, and he had only brought back a few drops.

Now, those few drops were gone.

Zhou took a deep breath, deciding that starting tomorrow, he would keep a close watch on his foster father.

The next morning, as usual, Gu invited Zhou to have breakfast together to build their rapport.

After they ate, he told Zhou to go cultivate while he went to work.

But Zhou didn’t go to cultivate. He followed Gu to the Bureau’s office building and sat on the sofa outside Gu’s office.

As someone with an innate spiritual body, he could cultivate anywhere, and of course he could do so here.

After more than an hour of work, Gu learned from staff coming and going that Zhou had been guarding his door the whole time, and he couldn’t help but find it amusing.

He called Zhou into the office and had him stay by his side.

Guarding the door while he worked—just how much did Zhou like him?

Gu had thought Zhou would accompany him for a day at most, then go about his own business.

But the opposite happened. Over the next few days, Zhou stayed with him constantly, inseparable.

Zhou spoke little, but wherever Gu went, Zhou followed, as if he couldn’t bear not seeing him for even a moment.

At night, Zhou would sneak into his bedroom, sit by his bed to watch him, and steal kisses.

It was obvious that Zhou liked him very, very much.

But during this period, Zhou’s mood wasn’t good.

Gu thought it over and quickly understood why.

Zhou had examined his body and believed he was dying. In that situation, how could Zhou possibly be in good spirits?

After considering it, Gu decided to confess as soon as possible.

Zhou was secretly in love and heartsick over his failing health—he looked so pitiful that it made Gu ache.

If he confessed, at least Zhou wouldn’t have to sneak in at night to kiss him.

He wouldn’t mind Zhou kissing him in broad daylight!

Thinking of how Zhou had snuck in again last night to kiss him, Gu almost couldn’t bear to wash his face.

But he still had to. After washing and doing some skincare for his old face, Gu went to the kitchen to make breakfast.

At first, he only cooked dinner himself, but since Zhou loved him so much and followed him every day…

Now he cooked all three meals personally.

They say to win a man’s heart, you must first win his stomach, and he could clearly feel Zhou liking him more and more.

Breakfast was wontons. Halfway through making them, Zhou arrived.

Gu set the wontons on the table and looked at Zhou. “Qinghao, there’s something I’d like to tell you.”

Better to confess today—though the words would need careful crafting.