Come on, What Kind of CEO Chases His Roommate Back to the Country? - Chapter 52

“You…” Pei Song took a deep breath. “Forget it, I don’t want to argue with you.”

“Oh? Now you think even talking to me is unnecessary?” Shi Yancheng’s tone carried an indescribable sting.

“That’s not what I meant.” Pei Song sighed, exhausted. “I just don’t understand why you’re so against me going to Country D.”

Shi Yancheng stared at him, his gaze dark and unreadable. After a moment, he simply said coldly, “Do whatever you want.”

He turned and strode into the study, slamming the door shut. Pei Song stood there, feeling an inexplicable heaviness in his chest. Since he met Shi Yancheng, this was the first time he felt an invisible rift growing between them.

He didn’t understand why a mere training program made Shi Yancheng so irrational. And why did his attitude always turn sour whenever Zhou Feng was mentioned?

On Thursday night, the department organized a dinner gathering. Pei Song hadn’t planned on going, but his colleagues kept insisting.

The private room was filled with laughter and clinking glasses, but Pei Song was only half-listening, his mind elsewhere. The tension with Shi Yancheng in the past few days hung over him like a storm cloud, refusing to clear.

“Manager Pei, I propose a toast to you.” Liu Yan raised his glass. “I heard you’re heading to Country D for executive training? Congratulations!”

Pei Song forced a smile and picked up his glass. The sharp burn of the liquor slid down his throat, making him frown.

“Boss Zhou must really value you.” Liu Yan refilled his glass. “You’re so young and already have such an opportunity. We’re all envious.”

“Exactly,” the other colleagues chimed in. “Manager Pei is young and talented, with Boss Zhou’s guidance, your future is limitless.”

Hearing these compliments, Pei Song only felt irony creeping in. Normally, he barely drank strong liquor, but tonight, he made an exception, accepting every toast without hesitation.

“Come on, let’s all drink to Team Leader Pei!” Liu Yan signaled to the others.

One round after another, Pei Song’s mind grew hazier. Thinking about Shi Yancheng’s coldness over the past few days, and his impending departure for Country D, Pei Song felt suffocated. He lifted his glass and downed it in one go.

After several rounds, Pei Song was completely drunk. Leaning against the chair, his vision swayed. Shi Yancheng’s face flickered in his mind, he was leaving, yet he still wanted to control whether Pei Song went to Country D or not.

“Enough.” Zhou Feng finally interrupted another toast. “Pei Song has had enough.”

Liu Yan wanted to protest, but a single glance from Zhou Feng shut him up. He awkwardly backed away. Pei Song reached for the bottle again, but Zhou Feng stopped him.

“No more drinking,” Zhou Feng said with concern. “I’ll take you home.”

Dazed, Pei Song nodded and let Zhou Feng support him outside. The cool night air made his head spin even more. As they reached the parking lot and Zhou Feng was about to help him into the car, a familiar voice rang out.

“I’ll take him.” 

Under the dim streetlight, Shi Yancheng stood tall, striding toward them. Without asking, he took Pei Song from Zhou Feng’s grasp.

“Mr. Shi…” Zhou Feng hesitated, but Shi Yancheng was already half-carrying Pei Song to his own car.

Drunk and dazed, Pei Song instinctively leaned into Shi Yancheng, nuzzling against his neck.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you…? I know you’re leaving…” he murmured.

Shi Yancheng remained silent, fastening Pei Song’s seatbelt, but as soon as he did, Pei Song began to squirm.

“Why are you always so mad at me…” His wet eyes shimmered with grievance. He clung to Shi Yancheng’s shirt as if holding on would make him stay. Fueled by alcohol, all his suppressed emotions burst out. “Why have you been ignoring me these days…?”

Shi Yancheng looked at his reddened eyes, and his heart softened. He gently pried Pei Song’s fingers off, but Pei Song threw himself at him again.

“Say something…”

Shi Yancheng sighed helplessly and pulled out his phone to call a chauffeur. When the driver arrived and saw the limited-edition Bentley, he sucked in a breath.

“Uh, hello, I—” The driver rubbed his hands nervously.

“Just drive slowly,” Shi Yancheng instructed, settling into the back seat with Pei Song leaning against him.

All the way back, Pei Song kept mumbling incomprehensibly. Shi Yancheng let him, occasionally patting his back lightly. Through the rearview mirror, the driver glanced at them curiously. The car rolled into the hotel’s underground parking lot.

“We’ve arrived, sir,” the driver announced.

“Thank you,” Shi Yancheng replied simply.

By now, Pei Song had fallen asleep on his shoulder, his breathing slow and steady. Shi Yancheng gently shook him. “Wake up, go sleep inside.”

“Mmm…” Pei Song buried his face in Shi Yancheng’s neck, unwilling to move. Shi Yancheng sighed, exasperated yet indulgent, and carried him inside.

Instinctively, Pei Song wrapped his arms around his neck, resting his face against his chest. Inside the elevator, Shi Yancheng looked down at the person in his arms, his gaze turning soft.

Reaching the hotel suite, Shi Yancheng laid Pei Song on the bed and turned to get a towel. But before he could step away, Pei Song’s warm hand reached out from behind and held onto his wrist.

“Don’t go…” Pei Song murmured, pressing his face against Shi Yancheng’s hand. “…Stay, please…”

Shi Yancheng froze as he felt the warmth on his skin. Pei Song was kissing his hand, his wrist, his knuckles, light, lingering touches that sent a ripple through him.

“Enough.” Shi Yancheng’s voice was hoarse.

But Pei Song didn’t stop. “If you leave… what will I do…”

Soft lips trailed over his skin like feathers teasing his heart.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Shi Yancheng lowered his gaze, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“I do…” Pei Song looked up with drunken, misty eyes. “I’m kissing you…”

A fragile thread of restraint snapped. Shi Yancheng pushed Pei Song down onto the bed, roughly unbuttoning his shirt. His kisses were deep and possessive, both a punishment and a claim. He trailed upwards, pressing marks into Pei Song’s collarbone.

Pei Song arched his neck, letting out soft, breathy sounds, his fingers tangled in Shi Yancheng’s collar.