293: grateful

The morning light gradually warmed, but the air outside the funeral home remained heavy with an unyielding sorrow.

Lu Chuan's stall remained quiet, out of place amidst the surrounding grief, yet strangely like a magnet, attracting those souls almost numb with sorrow.

After finishing the "morning dew consolation meal," the family members, though still deeply saddened, finally regained a hint of color in their faces and stopped swaying, managing to gather some strength.

Supported by relatives and colleagues, they finally boarded the car to leave.

Before getting into the car, the middle-aged man cast another grateful glance at Lu Chuan.

After the brief interlude, the stall returned to its quiet state.

Ding Xinyang looked at the almost untouched meals in the insulated box and couldn't help but whisper to Lu Chuan:

"A Chuan, sales will probably be very poor this week. It's really hard to sell food outside a funeral home."

Lu Chuan's gaze calmly swept over the few sorrowful people walking by, and he softly hummed in acknowledgment.

"I know it's difficult, but it's very meaningful. After all, good food can heal people's hearts."

No sooner had he finished speaking than he saw a somewhat familiar figure walking towards the stall.

It was the girl from yesterday, Chen Yue.

She looked a bit more energetic than yesterday; although her eyes were still red and swollen, her steps were much steadier.

She tightly clutched a much cleaner-looking wallet in her hand, and as she approached the food truck, her face showed a hint of awkwardness and gratitude.

"Boss, I came to thank you. We really appreciate your help yesterday."

She smoothed her hair and continued:

"My mother is already awake. The doctor said it was hypoglycemia and excessive grief. She's on an IV now, and her condition is much more stable."

Lu Chuan nodded upon hearing this and smiled:

"It's good that she's alright."

Chen Yue handed over several crisp bills and said earnestly:

"This is the remaining meal fee from yesterday, and today's... I'd like to buy two more portions to take to my mother. She actually said she was a little hungry."

Towards the end, her voice carried a subtle catch and surprise.

For her mother to actively say she wanted to eat something, it was truly the first time in the days since her father passed away.

Lu Chuan did not decline as he had yesterday. He accepted the money, charged the standard price, then deftly packed two portions of "morning dew consolation meal." As he handed them to her, he added a small extra box of refreshing side dishes he had pickled himself, seasoned with seven-colored glass salt.

"This is for your mother, to whet her appetite."

Chen Yue took the heavy insulated bag, feeling the thoughtfulness that far exceeded the price. Her eyes reddened again, but she tried hard to hold back and bowed deeply:

"Thank you, Boss!"

With that, she hurried away, clearly eager for her mother to enjoy this heartfelt delicacy.

Lu Chuan smiled as he watched Chen Yue's retreating figure. He knew that this "consolation" had truly been delivered.

Perhaps Chen Yue's appearance brought a bit of "vitality," or perhaps the faint, lingering aroma continued to spread.

As closing time approached, an elderly man, alone and hunched, stood outside the funeral home for a long time before shuffling towards the stall.

His face was covered with deep wrinkles, his eyes hollow, his lips chapped, and he clutched an old hat tightly in his hand.

Because of his age and presbyopia, he squinted, carefully examining the food truck's sign, and tentatively asked:

"Young man, do you sell porridge here?"

The old man's voice was extremely hoarse.

"Yes, elder, we have hot porridge, steamed eggs, and flower tea,"

Lu Chuan replied softly.

The old man vaguely saw the word "consolation" on the food truck. His cloudy eyes moved, and he murmured:

"Consolation... consolation... My wife is gone, and I'm all alone at home... Everything tastes the same, tasteless..."

As he spoke, he instinctively fumbled in his pocket, his movements slow.

Lu Chuan silently served a portion of porridge, opened the lid, and handed it over along with a spoon and a cup of soothing flower dew:

"Grandpa, it's cold. Have something hot to warm yourself up first. It's on the house."

The old man stared blankly at the steaming, warm-colored porridge, then looked at Lu Chuan's peaceful eyes, and hesitantly took it.

With trembling hands, he scooped up a spoonful of porridge, blew on it, and slowly brought it to his mouth.

The soft porridge almost didn't require chewing; the warm rice fragrance and a hint of strange sweetness slid down his throat, as if moisturizing a dry riverbed.

A faint glimmer seemed to appear in the old man's hollow eyes.

He ate one spoonful after another, very slowly, yet with intense focus.

After finishing most of the bowl of porridge, he picked up the cup of soothing flower dew and took a sip.

The delicate floral scent and subtle sweetness seemed to dispel some of the loneliness and despair that enveloped him.

He put down the cup, let out a long, silent sigh, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes compressing and relaxing.

Lu Chuan clearly sensed that the old man's face no longer showed pure confusion and loneliness, but a complex emotion of being understood and briefly accompanied.

"...Thank you, young man."

The old man wiped the corners of his eyes with his sleeve. His voice was still hoarse, but less desolate.

"This porridge... tastes like what my wife used to make... warm..."

He insisted on leaving some change, and Lu Chuan did not refuse this time.

The old man smiled and nodded at Lu Chuan, then took his hat and left.

His steps were still unsteady, but his back seemed to straighten a little, and he slowly disappeared at the end of the path.

"Ding! Task progress updated: 5/10."