Specially delivered meals often carry a feeling or longing. Savors at Yu's delivery service kind of just happened somehow. It started when an elderly regular fell and injured himself. His children bring him back to his hometown. Yu paid him a visit with some roasted fowlbeast the man had ordered. The old man was astonished, but then smiled bitterly: 'Why bother coming all the way here? I had ordered this as a birthday gift for myself, but what's there to celebrate now? I might as well just kick the bucket here and now!' His voice was loud on purpose. His children's whispers could be heard from the other side of the door, their prior argument about who would be their father's caretaker now silenced. The old man pushed the roast fowlbeast aside, claiming a lack of appetite. Yu sighed, and put a pair of chopsticks in the man's hand as he said: 'You might be angry, but don't make your stomach upset too.' After devouring the meat, the old man slowly closed his eyes, remarking: 'It clearly tastes like the ones I had when I was a child, but there's just something different about it... Ah, yes. It used to be livelier around me back then.' Yu only makes deliveries when he has time to spare. There was a time when a rich merchant by the name of Liu would repeatedly send someone to grab his order, though it was always a bowl of plain noodles without any oil. He remembers that customer. The Liu estate was past its glory days. Yu crossed the knee-high doorstep to find a now dilapidated and desolate home, with most of its belongings sold off. Upon hearing his noodles were here, the bedridden merchant struggled to raise his head for a bite. As he tasted the specially provided extra serving of scallions with his noodles, tears ran down his face. 'So you still remember that broke, wretched peddler. The bowl of noodles you gave me for free back made me set on selling all my possessions on a gamble. If even plain noodles could taste this good, then how bad could life possibly get, right? So I tried again and again. Big wins followed with big losses, in a loop... before I finally encountered a devastating loss. You're the only one left who cares about me now.' Yu was silent, and sat there until the merchant finished his meal. The first funeral feast Yu attended was also of a regular. His first time experiencing the taste of a forever farewell, he was somewhat bewildered and lost. The banquet's atmosphere was just about like any other banquet—though some were wordlessly grieving, others were busy toasting to their superiors, while friends and relatives simply chatted about day-to-day matters. As if the banquet had turned into an ordinary meal after a good crying session. What he found incomprehensible was the deceased's last wish: he had asked Yu to serve the spicy chili oil hotpot at his funeral feast so everyone could merrily enjoy the meal. A guest, invigorated by the food, recounted an awkward episode when the man had accidentally dropped his work pass into a hotpot, causing the spicy soup to splash all over his colleagues, generating some laughter. Others shared more amusing anecdotes, his bad habits, aspirations, and his catchphrase—'I'll treat you to dinner sometime.' As Yu looked at the pot before him, he suddenly understood the deceased's intention: he simply wanted to say goodbye by treating everyone to a meal. This banquet was like any other feast under heaven—It brings joy to some, while sorrow to others. Some prefer spice while others prefer sugar. Such is life in the mortal realm.