Come on, What Kind of CEO Chases His Roommate Back to the Country? - Chapter 61

The following evening, the delegation had dinner at a seafood restaurant near Orchard Road.

The table was filled with laughter, clinking glasses, and lively chatter.

But Pei Song seemed distracted, staring blankly at an unread message on his phone.

It was from Shi Yancheng, asking how the day’s site visits had gone. Pei Song started typing a few replies, but ultimately deleted them all.

“Pei Song, why aren’t you drinking?” Zhou Feng poured some red wine into his glass.

“Sorry, Mr. Zhou, my stomach’s a bit upset tonight,” Pei Song declined politely. “Besides, I’ve got some materials to organize, so I may need to head back early.”

“Want me to give you a ride?”

“No need. I think I’ll walk a bit and get some air.” Pei Song stood and politely excused himself from the group.

As he stepped out of the restaurant, the humid Singaporean night air hit him.

Loosening his tie, he wandered aimlessly through the shopping arcades along Orchard Road.

Passing by a century-old teahouse, he caught a whiff of a rich cinnamon aroma.

The shop was small, decorated in a traditional style. The wooden counter was lined with all kinds of tea canisters.

“Would you like to take a look, sir?” The elderly shop owner, likely in his sixties, greeted him in heavily accented Mandarin. “Our Jin Feng Tea Garden’s cinnamon tea is a Singapore specialty.”

Drawn in by the scent, Pei Song stepped inside.

“This cinnamon tea is our unique blend,” the owner explained as he brewed a cup. “We use the finest Ceylon black tea from Sri Lanka as the base, blend it with natural cinnamon from Indonesia, and add lemongrass from Malaysia for flavor. The ratio of the three must be just right.”

He handed Pei Song a steaming cup. “It even won a gold award at last year’s international tea fair. What makes it special is the natural sweetness, no sugar needed, still very enjoyable.”

Pei Song brought the cup to his lips. The fragrance was rich, and just like the owner said, the flavor was smooth with a natural sweetness.

He thought of Shi Yancheng, who drank black tea daily, never with sugar. Maybe he’d like this naturally sweet cinnamon blend?

Pei Song found himself staring at the tea canister, hesitating. Would it seem too deliberate to give a gift out of nowhere?

He remembered Shi Yancheng’s focused expression when brewing tea and, after a moment, picked up a canister of the cinnamon tea and handed it to the owner to purchase.

After leaving the teahouse, he continued walking through the mall.

In the boutique section of Marina Bay Sands, a local artisan watch and jewelry studio caught his eye.

Displayed in the window were various handmade accessories, one pair of cufflinks especially stood out.

Handcrafted silver bases inlaid with lifelike orchid flowers, the national flower of Singapore, were accented at the center with South Sea pearls that glowed softly under the light.

“This is one of our limited-edition designs,” the shop assistant explained. “Inspired by the Vanda Miss Joaquim orchid, it’s made with traditional craftsmanship. Each pearl is a handpicked South Sea pearl, with excellent luster and color.”

Pei Song stared at the cufflinks, thinking of how meticulous Shi Yancheng always looked in meetings. He always wore finely tailored suits, and occasionally simple silver cufflinks on his sleeves.

This pair, elegant, understated, and subtly Eastern in style, felt like something that suited Shi Yancheng perfectly.

Pei Song stood at the counter for a long time before finally making the purchase.

As he looked at the receipt, he regretted the impulse.

What exactly was his relationship with Shi Yancheng now? Boss and subordinate? Friends? Or… something more ambiguous?

Even he wasn’t ready to examine the emotions hidden in this gift.

Back at the hotel with the shopping bags in hand, Pei Song collapsed into the sofa. He took out the cufflinks and the tea canister, inspecting them carefully under the lamp.

The cufflinks shimmered softly, the orchid petals so vivid they seemed to have just bloomed.

The canister bore the Jin Feng Tea Garden logo, simple and refined.

With a sigh, Pei Song repacked the gifts and tucked them carefully at the very bottom of his suitcase.

The next morning, the delegation visited Singapore’s Elderly Care Industry Research Center.

“Our approach is based on a ‘full life cycle’ model,” the center director explained, presenting a slideshow. “From home-based care to institutional services and end-of-life care, we’ve developed a comprehensive system.”

Pei Song took detailed notes. “How long has this model been implemented in Singapore? And how effective has it been?”

“It’s been five years now. The biggest challenge is the high upfront investment and long return cycle. But in the long term, it’s better for sustainable industry development.”

At the afternoon symposium, several frontline operations managers shared their experiences.

“Smart systems do improve efficiency, but we also need to ensure senior-friendly design,” one manager said. “The interfaces must be simple, fonts large, and operations intuitive.”

“Another key point is staff training,” another added. “No matter how advanced the tech, in the end, it’s still people who carry it out.”

Pei Song kept writing notes and asking insightful, professional questions, leaving a strong impression on the attendees.

That evening, Zhou Feng took Pei Song to a seaside restaurant near Marina Bay.

From the terrace, they could see the iconic Marina Bay Sands. The sea breeze carried a salty, humid scent. A waiter brought over a bottle of red wine, and Zhou Feng poured them both.

“You’ve done well these past few days,” Zhou Feng raised his glass. “I remember when you first joined the company, still a bit green. Now you’re fully capable of handling things on your own.”

Pei Song smiled politely. “It’s thanks to your guidance, Mr. Zhou.”

“Actually…” Zhou Feng looked out at the sea, his tone turning unexpectedly gentle. “Sometimes I wonder if I made the wrong decision back then.”

Pei Song’s fingers tensed slightly, though his expression remained calm.

“You had just graduated then, young and full of fire,” Zhou Feng continued with a touch of nostalgia. “You suddenly said those things to me, and I rejected you without thinking. Looking back now… maybe I missed something…”

“Mr. Zhou,” Pei Song set down his wine glass, voice steady but cool, “Let’s leave the past in the past. Right now, I just want to focus on doing my job well.”

Zhou Feng looked at his detached profile, as if about to say more, but at that moment, Pei Song’s phone buzzed.

He glanced at the screen. It was a message from Shi Yancheng, “I’ll pick you up at the airport tomorrow.”

A flicker of emotion flashed in Pei Song’s eyes, so brief, yet Zhou Feng didn’t miss it.

“Singapore’s night view is beautiful,” Zhou Feng said, changing the subject, “But no scenery compares to the feeling of coming home.”

Pei Song nodded. “Yeah. I’ve learned a lot these past few days, it’s time to head back.”

“Mr. Shi seems very invested in this project,” Zhou Feng said, carefully probing. “You can tell he trusts you.”

“It’s okay,” Pei Song replied lightly.

Zhou Feng pressed further, “Didn’t you say he was your roommate back in Country D?”

Pei Song nodded.

“Just roommates?” Zhou Feng asked, eyes lingering on him.