Come on, What Kind of CEO Chases His Roommate Back to the Country? - Chapter 19

As they stepped out of the classroom, the sunset cast a warm glow over everything. Shi Yancheng stood by the door, waiting for him, his tall figure outlined by the light.

“Let’s go,” Shi Yancheng said. “Dinner’s on me.”

“Are we going to our restaurant?” Pei Song asked.

Shi Yancheng nodded. “Xiao Zhao is the head chef tonight. I had him prepare a few new dishes in advance. When the Michelin reviewers visited last month, he performed exceptionally well.”

On the way, Pei Song’s mind was occupied with thoughts about the restaurant. “That improved version of dan dan noodles has been really well received by customers lately.”

“Yeah, even the head chef from a Western restaurant came to ask for the recipe,” Shi Yancheng said. “Have you considered expanding this series?”

“I have.” Pei Song’s eyes lit up. “We could develop a whole fusion menu combining Sichuan cuisine and Western dishes. But…” His voice trailed off.

“You’re thinking about going back home,” Shi Yancheng glanced at him.

Pei Song nodded. His thesis defense was over, his luggage was mostly packed, and his visa was about to expire. It was time to say goodbye.

“The restaurant—”

“Let’s eat first,” Shi Yancheng interrupted. “I had Xiao Zhao make all your favorite dishes.”

Pei Song turned to look out the window. He hadn’t even left yet, and he was already feeling reluctant to say goodbye to this life.

A few days later, Pei Song stood in the middle of his room, staring blankly at the packed suitcases.

Two years of studying abroad were coming to an end. Everything had to be sorted and packed. But with every item he picked up, memories surfaced.

The delicate copper pots in the kitchen Shi Yancheng had bought for him to cook private meals. The desk lamp Shi Yancheng had shoved it into his hands when he stayed up late studying. The treadmill in the corner, it had just appeared in his room one day, no explanation needed.

“How’s the packing going?” Shi Yancheng leaned against the doorframe.

“Still working on it.” Pei Song snapped out of his thoughts. “Some things… I might need your help getting rid of…”

“Keep them,” Shi Yancheng interrupted. “You’re used to them anyway.”

Pei Song shook his head with a smile. “I’m going back to China. I can’t take all of this with me.”

Shi Yancheng didn’t respond. He turned and walked towards the study, but Pei Song thought he saw his shoulders stiffen slightly.

That evening, Pei Song focused on making dinner. He decided to cook Shi Yancheng’s favorite Sichuan dishes.

“When does your visa expire?” Shi Yancheng suddenly asked.

“The 15th of this month,” Pei Song said as he chopped vegetables. “I booked a flight for the 13th.”

Shi Yancheng’s chopsticks paused. “That soon?”

“Yeah, the ticket was cheaper that day, and my parents want to see me as soon as possible.”

“What are your plans after returning?” Shi Yancheng set his chopsticks down. “And the restaurant?”

Pei Song slowed his chewing. “I’ve already talked to the team. The head chef can handle all the dishes, and the service team is well-trained.” He glanced at Shi Yancheng. “With you overseeing things here, I feel at ease.”

“Continuing the restaurant is a great opportunity for you,” Shi Yancheng said.

It was true. Over the past year, the restaurant has grown beyond expectations. What had started as a simple Chinese eatery had become a well-known fine dining establishment in the city. Food critics traveled from all over, and even the Michelin reviewers had given it high marks.

“I know,” Pei Song said. “But my family—”

“You don’t have to worry about the restaurant,” Shi Yancheng cut him off. “I’ll take care of things here. Going home to check on your family is important.”

Pei Song nodded and said no more. Over the past year, their partnership had gone smoother than he had ever imagined.

Shi Yancheng’s business advice had always been sharp and precise, helping Pei Song not only refine his culinary skills but also learn a great deal about managing a business.

Shi Yancheng looked at his profile but remained silent. His gaze on the dining table seemed unusually deep in thought.

A moment later, he picked up his chopsticks again, as if their conversation had been nothing more than casual small talk.

In the days that followed, Pei Song’s classmates organized farewell gatherings.

As a well-known food blogger, he was naturally invited to many of them. But at every gathering, he noticed that Shi Yancheng always seemed to appear at the same restaurant coming up with various reasons to be there.

He never came over to say hello, but his gaze always lingered on Pei Song from a distance.

“Is your roommate reluctant to see you go?” A classmate teased. “He’s been hanging around a lot lately.”

Pei Song smiled and shook his head. “He’s probably just passing by.” But something inside him felt different.

Shi Yancheng had indeed been acting strangely lately, as if he had something on his mind.

Back at home, Pei Song checked his luggage. Passport, plane ticket, essentials. Everything was ready.

Shi Yancheng stood at the door for a long time before finally speaking. “Do you need me to take you to the airport?”

“No need,” Pei Song smiled. “Aren’t you hosting a meeting that day?”

Shi Yancheng frowned. “I can reschedule.”

“Don’t be stubborn,” Pei Song said. “Work is important.”

“You’re more important,” Shi Yancheng suddenly said.

They both froze. The room fell silent, the only sound was their quiet breathing.

Pei Song was the first to break it. “I… I’ll go make dinner.”

But his hands were trembling slightly, and he almost cut his finger while slicing vegetables.

“Be careful,” Shi Yancheng murmured from behind him, taking the knife from his hands. “I’ll do it.”

“You know how to cook?” Pei Song asked, surprised.

“I’ve been watching you for so long, I should’ve picked up something.”

Shi Yancheng’s knife skills were slow but unexpectedly steady. Watching him, Pei Song suddenly felt a lump in his throat. That night, Pei Song prepared a table full of Shi Yancheng’s favorite dishes.

“Tomorrow’s the last day. Let’s just enjoy dinner tonight.”

Shi Yancheng looked at the table and suddenly said, “Teach me how to cook.”

“Huh?”

“At least a few simple dishes.”

Pei Song understood what he meant and nodded. “Alright, I’ll teach you tomorrow.”

In the days that followed, their routine subtly changed.

Every night, Shi Yancheng stood in the kitchen, seriously learning how to cook.

The day of departure arrived. Pei Song stood at the apartment door, looking at the place he had lived in for a year, his heart heavy with reluctance.

“Got everything packed?” Shi Yancheng asked.

“Yeah,” Pei Song smiled. “Just feeling a little sentimental.”

Shi Yancheng was silent for a moment before saying, “You can always come back.”

“You’ll probably move out by then,” Pei Song said. “I heard you’re starting a new project.”

Shi Yancheng looked at him. “I won’t move.”

The words made Pei Song’s heart tremble. He quickly composed himself. “Then… I wish you success.”

Shi Yancheng didn’t respond, only nodded. But as Pei Song turned to leave, Shi Yancheng suddenly said, “Message me when you land.”

Pei Song turned back and smiled. “Alright.”

That single “Alright” seemed to make Shi Yancheng’s tense posture relax, as if he had finally let out a breath.

Pei Song dragged his suitcase a few steps before turning back one last time. “Shi Yancheng, eat less takeout from now on. Take care of yourself.”

Shi Yancheng’s gaze deepened. “Safe travels.”