Come on, What Kind of CEO Chases His Roommate Back to the Country? - Chapter 47

After work, Pei Song received a message from Shi Yancheng, “I’m waiting for you at the parking lot.”

Pei Song quickly packed up his documents and took the elevator down to B2. From a distance, he saw Shi Yancheng’s tall figure leaning against the car door. Dressed in a dark gray shirt and tailored suit pants, he looked composed and reserved.

“What do you want for dinner?” Shi Yancheng looked up at him, walked to the passenger side, and opened the car door.

Pei Song bent down and got in. “Let’s just order room service.”

“It’s been a while since I had your cooking.” Shi Yancheng’s tone carried a subtle complaint. “You’ve been working overtime so much that I almost forgot you could cook.”

Hearing the dissatisfaction in his voice, Pei Song chuckled. “Alright, let’s go to the supermarket and get some ingredients.”

Shi Yancheng turned the steering wheel and headed toward the supermarket.

Pei Song glanced at him. “What do you want to eat?”

“You decide,” Shi Yancheng started the car. “Everything you make is good.”

“It’s been a while since I had steak,” Pei Song thought for a moment. “How about that?”

Shi Yancheng’s lips curled slightly. “Sounds good.”

The supermarket wasn’t crowded. The two of them slowly pushed a shopping cart through the fresh produce section.

Pei Song stopped at the steak counter, carefully examining the marbling of each cut.

“This ribeye looks great,” he pointed at a piece with evenly distributed marbling. “See the fat distribution? It’ll taste amazing when seared.”

Shi Yancheng listened attentively, his eyes following Pei Song’s movements without blinking.

The usually decisive and efficient businessman was now fully focused on learning how to pick a steak, an oddly contradictory yet harmonious sight.

“We’ll need some side dishes too.” Pei Song selected broccoli and button mushrooms. “These veggies help balance out the richness of the steak. Oh, and we need some thyme and rosemary.”

Passing by the snack aisle, Shi Yancheng tossed a few bags of Pei Song’s favorite chips into the cart.

“I thought you told me to eat less of these?” Pei Song raised an eyebrow.

“An occasional indulgence is fine,” Shi Yancheng replied coolly.

Back at the hotel suite, Pei Song tied on an apron and skillfully got to work.

He carefully patted the steak dry with a paper towel, sprinkling a precise amount of sea salt and freshly ground black pepper.

The cast iron skillet was preheated, and a thin trail of smoke curled up from the olive oil.

As Pei Song placed the steak in the pan, a satisfying sizzle filled the kitchen, and the rich aroma spread instantly.

Shi Yancheng leaned against the counter, watching as Pei Song expertly controlled the heat.

The butter in the pan melted gradually. Pei Song added garlic cloves, thyme, and rosemary.

Using a spoon, he basted the steak with the golden butter, infusing it with fragrant herbs. The steak’s surface glistened enticingly.

After letting it rest, Pei Song cut a small piece and held it up to Shi Yancheng’s lips. “Try it.”

Shi Yancheng paused for a second, then leaned down and took a bite. “It’s delicious, way better than hotel room service.”

“Of course.” Pei Song smirked. “I’m a pro.”

Shi Yancheng served him the most tender piece. “Eat properly. If your mom sees you’ve lost weight, she’ll blame me.”

Over dinner, they chatted.

“My mom is preparing her application for M University’s Art Academy,” Pei Song said, cutting into his steak. “Her mentor gave her a lot of professional advice.”

“He’s one of the best professors there.” Shi Yancheng nodded. “I spoke to him last week. He said your mom’s work is unique and suggested she try new creative techniques.”

“Really?” Pei Song’s eyes lit up. “She’s been worried her style is too traditional.”

“No need. The professor really appreciates Eastern art elements.” Shi Yancheng placed a mushroom on Pei Song’s plate. “He even mentioned wanting to invite her for an exhibition next year.”

A few days later, at the Starlight Plaza project kickoff meeting, the conference room was filled with tension.

“This is our most important commercial real estate project of the year,” Zhou Feng stood by the projector screen. “We’re not just building the largest shopping complex in City C, we’re making it a benchmark case for SNK in the Asia-Pacific region.”

Pei Song reviewed the project documents. The massive 200,000-square-meter complex would combine a shopping mall, office towers, and a luxury hotel, with an investment exceeding 5 billion.

“The budget plan is ready.” Liu Yan stood up and launched his carefully prepared PowerPoint. “We project an overall return on investment exceeding 15%.”

He confidently explained everything, from market research to financial projections, with clear logic and solid data.

However, as Pei Song examined the financials closely, he noticed some irregularities.

Certain cost estimates seemed suspiciously low, and some suppliers had questionable credentials.

What stood out most was that the procurement budget for key equipment was nearly 30% below market price.

“This budget looks highly competitive,” Zhou Feng nodded approvingly. “Pei Song, for the commercial planning section, you need to coordinate closely with the budget team.”

After the meeting, Pei Song sat alone in his office, going over the troubling numbers again.

Late at night, he rubbed his tired eyes and glanced at his watch, 11 PM.

Back at the hotel, Shi Yancheng looked up at the clock. “You worked late again?”

“Yeah, I had some project issues to deal with.” Pei Song set down his briefcase, feeling his shoulders relax.

On the coffee table, two insulated meal boxes were still steaming.

“Eat first.” Shi Yancheng handed him chopsticks. “I had the hotel kitchen make these specially for you.”

Pei Song opened the boxes, braised pork ribs and stir-fried greens, his favorite dishes.

As he devoured his meal, Shi Yancheng couldn’t help but comment, “Slow down, no one’s taking it from you.”

After dinner, as Pei Song cleared the table, a stack of documents accidentally fell to the floor. Shi Yancheng helped pick them up, his gaze briefly skimming the dense numbers.

“You found something wrong?” he asked.

Pei Song hesitated before sharing his concerns. “These supplier quotes are definitely suspicious,” Shi Yancheng listened carefully. “But gathering solid evidence won’t be easy.”

Pei Song sighed. “That’s why I’ve been double-checking the numbers these past few days.”

Sitting side by side in the study, they focused on analyzing the complex financial data. Shi Yancheng built a financial model to quickly identify anomalies.

“You even know how to do this?” Pei Song was surprised.

“Finance modeling was a required course when I studied math at M University,” Shi Yancheng replied casually.

At 2 AM, Pei Song brewed two cups of coffee, the aroma filling the quiet study.

Shi Yancheng was typing away, deep in concentration. Worried the coffee would get cold, Pei Song lifted a cup to his lips. Shi Yancheng paused, surprised, but still took a sip from Pei Song’s hand. As he accepted the cup, their fingers brushed slightly.

“Look here,” Shi Yancheng quickly shifted focus, pointing at the screen. “I found a few suspicious fund transfers.”