Come on, What Kind of CEO Chases His Roommate Back to the Country? - Chapter 7

Shi Yancheng ate quietly, occasionally pointing out problems in the code. “This data structure needs a redesign. It’s too inefficient.”

“But refactoring would take too much effort…” A tall, thin guy frowned.

“Then work overtime.” Shi Yancheng’s tone was indifferent and unquestionable.

He paused and picked up a piece of twice-cooked pork from his bowl. “It must be finished before the thesis defense.”

The project group exchanged glances, but with good food to comfort them, the tension eased.

“By the way, Leon, your coding style seems a lot gentler lately,” the blond guy with glasses suddenly said. “Your reviews used to be brutally sharp.”

Shi Yancheng shot him a glance. “Focus on eating.”

“It must be because he’s eating well. Good food, good mood!” The brown-haired girl laughed, trying to smooth things over. “Spencer, this fish is amazing!”

Pei Song smiled in gratitude. Just as he was about to fetch more utensils from the kitchen, he noticed Shi Yancheng silently getting up and bringing over the condiments for him.

The discussion continued, switching between academics and food.

Shi Yancheng remained serious the whole time, but whenever Pei Song glanced at him, he noticed that the portion of twice-cooked pork in his bowl was steadily decreasing.

It wasn’t until after 10 PM that the project members finally left.

Shi Yancheng walked them to the door and returned to the living room, finding Pei Song cleaning up the dishes.

“I’ll do it.” He took the plates from Pei Song’s hands. “You worked hard.”

Pei Song shook his head. “It’s nothing. I like cooking anyway.”

“Thanks.” Shi Yancheng stared at him for a moment before saying, “But next time they come over, you don’t have to prepare so much.”

He went back to his room, but soon returned to the kitchen, pulling out a finely wrapped paper bag from his bag. “This is for you.”

Pei Song was surprised. “What’s this…?”

“I was at a conference in Switzerland last week and picked up some chocolate.” Shi Yancheng’s tone was neutral. “Consider it a thank-you gift.”

Inside was a box of Swiss handmade truffle chocolates. Pei Song recalled seeing this brand’s limited edition release on Instagram just a few days ago.

“Thanks, but you really didn’t have to—”

“I believe in fair exchange.” Shi Yancheng cut him off and continued tidying up. “Your cooking is professional. The project group was very satisfied.”

After cleaning up, Pei Song returned to his room and found that the project members had already followed him on Instagram.

He scrolled through the comments with a smile, noticing that Shi Yancheng’s account was also on the follower list.

His profile picture was a screenshot of code, and his page only contained a few research paper links, typical computer science student style.

The latest post was a picture of tonight’s dinner, captioned simply: “Perfect dinner.”

Pei Song turned off his phone and began preparing for his classes. He liked how they got along, maintaining just the right distance, neither intrusive nor indifferent.

The next two weeks passed peacefully.

Shi Yancheng continued his early morning and late-night schedule, sometimes bringing project discussions home. Pei Song spent his free time experimenting with new recipes, and his Instagram followers surpassed 150,000.

They settled into a comfortable rhythm until one late night, when a commotion broke the quiet of the apartment.

At 11 PM, Pei Song was editing a food video when a familiar British accent echoed down the hallway, “Spencer! I know you’re here! Come down!”

His body tensed. It was James. With a sigh, he stood up and cautiously peeked through the peephole. James was swaying in the hallway, holding a bottle of alcohol.

“Which room are you in? We need to talk!” His voice was hoarse and agitated.

Pei Song stumbled back, nearly knocking over his desk. He never expected James to find him here. Just then, the study door opened. Shi Yancheng stepped out, his face dark with irritation. Clearly, the noise had disturbed him too.

“What’s going on?” His voice was cold. Pei Song opened his mouth but didn’t know how to explain. Before he could respond, James started shouting again. “Spencer, you can’t just ignore me! That night was an accident…”

Shi Yancheng’s frown deepened. He glanced out the door before turning his gaze sharply to Pei Song. “You know him?”

Pei Song lowered his head, voice barely above a whisper. “Former roommate…”

“So you brought someone like that into this place?” Shi Yancheng’s voice turned ice-cold. “I thought you had better judgment.”

“It’s not like that…” Pei Song panicked, wanting to explain, but didn’t know where to start. He couldn’t exactly say that his ex-roommate had gotten drunk and tried to force a kiss on him.

“I don’t care what issues you two have,” Shi Yancheng said coldly. “But I don’t want this happening again. This is a high-end residential area, not a place for drama.”

Pei Song bit his lip hard, his nails digging into his palm. Seeing his shaken expression, Shi Yancheng’s gaze softened slightly. “If you’re in trouble, just say it.”

Pei Song hesitated, wondering if he should tell him everything, but before he could decide, security had already taken notice.

James’s voice faded into the distance, though he still managed to shout, “Spencer, we will talk about this sooner or later!”

The next day, as Shi Yancheng left class, he overheard some students chatting.

“Hey, did you hear? That insanely good-looking Chinese exchange student is being harassed by his old British roommate.”

“What? You mean that Instagram-famous food blogger? I’ve seen his posts, he looks like he stepped out of a manga!”

“Yeah! Apparently, his ex-roommate got drunk and tried to kiss him. He fought back with some Chinese kung fu, but the guy has connections, so no one’s done anything about it…”

Shi Yancheng’s steps faltered.

“That British guy’s family has influence, so no one dares interfere. Poor guy…”

Back in his office, Shi Yancheng dialed a number. “Hey, I need you to look into someone. British, named James, used to live in XX dorms…”

After hanging up, he made another call. “I need a favor…”