Come on, What Kind of CEO Chases His Roommate Back to the Country? - Chapter 54

Pei Song hadn’t yet processed the meaning of those words before he was suddenly lifted off the ground. He let out a startled cry, instinctively grabbing onto Shi Yancheng’s clothes. “What are you doing?! Put me down!”

“No.” Shi Yancheng tightened his grip and effortlessly stuffed him into the passenger seat. “Buckle up.”

Pei Song gritted his teeth in frustration, but he couldn’t overpower Shi Yancheng’s strength. He could only watch helplessly as the man fastened his seatbelt for him. Those long fingers moved before his eyes, reminding him of last night’s absurd events. His face instantly burned.

Shi Yancheng started the car and said, “We’re going back to the hotel for dinner.”

“I’m not going back.” Pei Song immediately objected. “I’m going home.”

“You mean that cold, empty house?” Shi Yancheng countered.

“It’s better than staying with you,” Pei Song retorted stubbornly. “After everything that’s happened, how could I still stay with you?”

Shi Yancheng’s fingers tensed slightly on the steering wheel, but his expression remained calm. “Let’s eat first, then we’ll talk.”

“I don’t have an appetite.” Pei Song turned his head away, staring at the blurred city lights rushing past the window. “Just seeing you right now makes me feel awful.”

Silence filled the car, thick and suffocating.

After a long pause, Shi Yancheng finally spoke. “So this… is how you see me now?”

The words struck something deep in Pei Song’s heart. Neither of them spoke for the rest of the ride. The atmosphere was so still it felt like time itself had frozen. The flickering street lights cast fragmented shadows on the car window, like silent sighs.

Pei Song stared down at his clasped hands, wanting to say something but not knowing where to start. His thoughts were a tangled mess, knotted tightly in his chest.

Shi Yancheng focused on driving, his slender fingers gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His usual composed demeanor was nowhere to be seen.

When the car finally stopped in front of Pei’s villa, Pei Song reached for the door handle, only for his wrist to be caught.

“Wait.” Shi Yancheng’s voice was low. “We need to talk.”

Pei Song gave a small tug, but he couldn’t break free. His voice carried exhaustion. “There’s nothing to talk about, Mr. Shi.”

“When did you start calling me ‘Mr. Shi’?” Shi Yancheng’s tone turned colder. “Is that all we are now? Just superior and subordinate?”

Pei Song bit his lip, not answering. There was so much he wanted to say, but the words stuck in his throat. He turned his head, meeting those light brown eyes filled with unreadable emotions.

“…Let go,” Pei Song whispered.

Shi Yancheng slowly released his grip, watching as Pei Song walked into the courtyard and disappeared behind the heavy wooden doors. The house was empty. Pei Song didn’t bother turning on the lights as he hurried upstairs. He tossed his briefcase aside and collapsed onto the bed, mind swirling with restless thoughts.

After a moment, he sat up abruptly, unconsciously walking toward the window.

Peering through a gap in the curtains, he saw Shi Yancheng’s car still parked outside. The dim courtyard lights outlined his silhouette through the windshield.

Pei Song hesitated several times, tempted to go downstairs and tell him to leave, but he forced himself to hold back. He tossed and turned in bed, but each time he peeked outside, the car remained unmoving, like a silent vigil.

It wasn’t until near dawn that the car finally drove away. Pei Song let out a long breath, yet an inexplicable emptiness settled in his chest.

After taking a shower, he absentmindedly opened his wardrobe and saw a shirt, Shi Yancheng’s shirt, that he had borrowed and forgotten to return.

He picked it up, and the familiar scent surrounded him instantly, making him momentarily dazed. Almost instinctively, he put it on.

At the weekly Friday meeting, Pei Song sat in the corner, pretending to take notes. Suddenly, a hoarse cough interrupted the reports. The sound carried a raspy, sickly tone. Pei Song glanced up just in time to see Shi Yancheng frowning, looking noticeably fatigued. He quickly lowered his head, convincing himself not to care.

After lunch with his colleagues, he overheard two of Shi Yancheng’s assistants whispering in the elevator.

“Mr. Shi probably has the flu. The doctor said it’s peak season right now…”

“Yeah, he was running a fever this morning but still forced himself to come to work…”

Pei Song’s chest tightened. As he reached his office, he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

“You guys go ahead. I forgot something downstairs.”

He took the elevator to the pharmacy.

“Cold medicine, fever reducers, flu medication… Give me two boxes of each.”

Back at the office, he approached Xiao Zhang from the administration department. “You’re in charge of the company’s medical kit, right?”

“Yeah, Manager Pei, do you need something?”

Pei Song handed over the bag of medicine. “Stock all of these. It’s flu season, and with so many employees, someone’s bound to need them.” He paused. “Oh, and if the CEO’s office needs any, make sure to send some over.”

“Should I announce it in the group chat?”

“Yeah, just mention that new medicine has been added and anyone who needs it can help themselves.” Pei Song emphasized, “But don’t say I bought them.”

Xiao Zhang wanted to ask more, but Pei Song had already turned and walked away. After some hesitation, Xiao Zhang decided to call Jin Shuning, the chief secretary of the CEO’s office.

“Secretary Jin, I just restocked the medical kit. Do you want me to send some over?”

“What kind of medicine?” Jin Shuning asked.

“Cold medicine, fever reducers, flu meds… Manager Pei specifically bought them and told me to send some to the CEO’s office. But he also said not to mention it was from him.”

There was a brief silence on the other end. Jin Shuning thought about how strange Shi Yancheng had been lately.

Yesterday, when the marketing department made a minor mistake in their quarterly report, Shi Yancheng uncharacteristically exploded, leaving the department head pale-faced. This morning, he rejected the HR department’s personnel plan three times in a row.

The atmosphere in the CEO’s office was suffocatingly tense.

Standing outside the office with the medicine in hand, Jin Shuning recalled how, during the Future Hotel project, Shi Yancheng had pulled strings to get technical support from the D-Country headquarters just to help Pei Song solve system issues.

Lately, he had started noticing subtle differences in how the CEO treated this young manager. As a veteran gossip enthusiast, Jin Shuning’s instincts for these things were razor-sharp. The scattered clues pieced together in his mind, forming an intriguing picture.

A delicious bit of gossip was brewing.