No one found anything abnormal about this; after all, in such projects, it's standard to finish ahead of schedule as long as no complications arise.

The delivery guy carefully checked the customer's message: don't call, just deliver. After delivery, open the lid and place it on a specified table—very detailed instructions.

He didn't mind; these were normal requests. He had seen more outrageous ones.

As long as he got a good review, he would do his best to fulfill any request within his capabilities.

Clients like Mr. Wen, who were low-maintenance and tipped every time, were as cherished as pandas.

With the takeaway in hand, he arrived at Virtue City New Hospital, checked the room number again, and headed to the gastroenterology department. Following the room number, he reached a ward.

The ward door was open, so he knocked, but no one answered. After he entered, he saw an old man still asleep in one of the beds.

After confirming the name on the bedside, he didn't dare to ask further. Fulfilling the instructions in the notes, he opened the beef brisket wonton noodles and placed them on the medical bedside table in the middle of the ward, then unwrapped the chopsticks and set them on the bowl.

Having done all this, he quickly left.

The breeze from the window gently blew in, stirring the medical records lying on another empty bed.

Late-stage gastric cancer.

Unable to eat.

The early morning breeze slowly wafted in, carrying the aroma of the beef brisket. It swirled into whiffs of fragrance that settled on the tip of the patient's nose.

The corners of the gaunt old man's mouth lifted in a faint smile; his hazy consciousness seemed to become a little clearer.

He remembered this familiar taste.

The first time he met his wife, he discovered a newly opened wonton shop. Astonishingly, this shop also served beef brisket.

To make a good impression on the young lady, he'd gritted his teeth and ordered a bowl of beef brisket wonton noodles.

But he'd only had fifty cents in his pocket. The original plan had been one bowl of wonton noodles each, with the remaining money going towards an ice pop for each of them.

Now, there was only enough for one bowl of beef brisket wonton noodles.

So, he'd only ordered one bowl. Bracing himself, he claimed he had eaten at home before coming out and wasn't hungry.

But the beef brisket had been too tempting. It made him salivate continuously, and his stomach rumbled like a lion dance drum, impatient to savor the taste of the beef brisket.

Back then, his wife's laughter was truly beautiful; her eyes were large and bright.

Then, his wife had asked the owner for an empty bowl and told him that good things should be shared, not kept all for one person.

Back then, he'd felt he had to marry this girl, even if it cost him his life.

As time passed, he gradually only remembered one thing: ah, the beef brisket wonton noodles he'd eaten back then were the best thing he had ever tasted in his life.

Later, that wretched shop must have cut corners; he could never taste that original flavor again.

Damn that shop to hell! Cutting corners! Serves them right they've only remained such a small shop for decades!

Now, lured by the aroma, memories of the past flooded his mind with vivid clarity. He realized it wasn't the taste that had changed; it was that no one was there to share that bowl of beef brisket wonton noodles with him anymore.

He felt so hungry. It had been so long since he'd eaten anything.

He struggled to open his eyes. He felt as if his wife had come to take him home.

He struggled to sit up. A blurry figure sat on the adjacent bed, seeming to say something. He was hard of hearing and couldn't make it out clearly, but he understood.

She wanted to share a bowl of beef brisket wonton noodles with him once more.

The fragrance wafted to his nose. A long-lost sensation of fullness flooded his heart, and the familiar, delicious taste he hadn't experienced in so long reappeared at that moment.

With a smile, he stood up and, taking his wife's hand, they both disappeared.

「Two minutes later,」

A middle-aged man entered the ward and was surprised to see the bowl of beef brisket wonton noodles on the bedside table.

"Dad, who brought this for you? The Doctor said you can't eat this..."

The old man on the bed, however, showed no reaction. His lips bore a smile as his eyes closed forever.

"Dad..."

The middle-aged man stepped forward, sensing something was wrong. He called for a doctor. A Doctor arrived and was prepared to start resuscitation—standard procedure to avoid complications.

But seeing the old man's peaceful, contented expression, the smile at the corners of his mouth, and the bowl of beef brisket wonton noodles on the bedside table, the Doctor hesitated for a moment, then said,

"Your father has been craving this bowl of beef brisket wonton noodles for months. Even when his consciousness wasn't clear, he kept clamoring to eat it. Actually, I was going to tell you yesterday that your father only had a couple of days left. I was thinking, why not satisfy your dad's wish? I didn't expect you'd bring it to him today..."

The middle-aged man paused, his expression complex and shifting for a long moment. Finally, he let out an exhausted sigh and told the Doctor not to bother.

His dad hadn't laughed in a very long time. Months of suffering had left him almost unrecognizable. To pass away with a smile... perhaps that was a good thing.

He looked at the now-cold bowl of beef brisket wonton noodles, still wondering who had delivered it.

But that no longer mattered. It was just a minor detail.

The delivery guy, still out on his rounds, saw the new positive review and grinned. When he saw the customer was very satisfied and had added an extra fifty yuan tip, he was even happier.

This time it wasn't the generous Mr. Wen, but another customer.

「On the other side,」

Wen Yan's family of three had already finished their breakfast.

Little Zombie went back to sleep after eating, while Sparrow Cat perched on the couch, grooming its feathers and incidentally wiping its mouth.

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