溝蓋之下

雨停得很輕，像是霧悄悄收了傘。

The rain had stopped softly, like mist quietly folding away its umbrella.

林修遠走在城邊的小巷，心無所依。這些年來，他太習慣在某些無人問津的角落尋找一種「接近」——接近過去、接近記憶、接近那些已經走遠卻仍發著微光的名字。

Lin Xiuyuan walked through an alley on the edge of the city, untethered. For years, he had grown used to searching in forgotten corners—for closeness to the past, to memories, to the names that had faded but still glowed faintly in his heart.

牆角貼著一張紙，他幾乎是被什麼吸引了似的走近。那張紙貼得不深，邊緣已微微翹起，紙上只寫了一句話，筆跡墨黑未乾，字像是風裡寫的：

At the corner of a wall, a sheet of paper caught his eye, as if something had drawn him near. Loosely taped, its edges curled. One line was written on it, the ink dark and barely dry—the words looked like they were penned by the wind:

「有燈之處，不必問路。」

"Where there is light, one need not ask the way."

他愣了一會兒，心裡浮出一種說不出來的熟悉感。像是誰曾經說過，又像是夢裡聽見過。

He paused, a strange sense of familiarity rising within him. As if someone had once said this—or maybe he had heard it in a dream.

他抬起手，剛想觸碰那張紙，一陣突如其來的風捲了過來。

He raised his hand to touch the paper, but a sudden gust of wind swept in.

紙忽地鬆開，飄了起來。

The paper came loose and took flight.

他一怔，下意識地追了過去。

Startled, he chased after it instinctively.

紙在風中旋轉、翻飛，穿過小巷、越過低牆，又躍上斜坡。修遠不知道自己為什麼跑，只覺得腳步像被什麼牽引著，不能停下。

The paper spun and fluttered in the wind—through the alley, over a low wall, and up a slope. Xiuyuan didn’t know why he was running—only that something pulled at his feet, refusing to let him stop.

紙飛得不快，卻總在他前方不遠處，像有意引領，又似故意錯開一步。那一刻，他幾乎錯覺這張紙有了意識。

The paper never flew far, always just ahead—leading him, yet always a step away. In that moment, he almost believed the paper had a will of its own.

穿過一條行人罕至的舊馬路後，紙片飄入一片草坡，在空中最後一次翻轉，便悠悠落入前方一條雨後湍急的山溪。

After crossing a rarely used road, the paper drifted over a grassy slope, twirling once more before gently falling into a mountain stream, swollen from the rain.

紙在水面輕輕打了兩個旋，接著順流而下。修遠奔至岸邊，眼睜睜看著它飄遠，直到轉過一個彎口，徹底消失。

It spun twice on the water's surface, then floated downstream. Xiuyuan reached the bank, helplessly watching it drift away—until it rounded a bend and vanished.

他沒再追。站在岸邊，胸口忽地一空，那是一種難以言說的失落——像是好不容易再度握住了什麼，卻又眼睜睜看它溜走。

He didn’t chase it. Standing by the river, his chest hollowed—a feeling hard to name. As though he had finally touched something precious, only to watch it slip away again.

他彎下身，雙手撐膝，喘息著，額上滲著冷汗。

He bent over, hands on knees, panting. Cold sweat gathered on his brow.

然而下一秒，他抬起頭，望向紙消失的方向，忽然發現心裡被什麼輕輕碰了一下。那不是悲傷，而更像一種被喚醒的悸動——久未出現的感覺。

Then, lifting his head, looking toward where the paper vanished, he felt something stir gently inside. It wasn’t sorrow—but a kind of awakening, a sensation long forgotten.

他順著溪邊往前走了一小段，轉過彎的那一刻，視野忽然開闊。

He followed the stream a little farther. As he rounded the bend, his view suddenly opened.

遠方的山頭，有一座寺院靜靜坐著，屋脊輕披薄霧，像多年前就已經在那裡，只是他今天才真正「看見」。

On a distant hillside, a temple sat quietly, its roof lightly veiled in mist. It seemed it had been there for years—but today was the first time he truly “saw” it.

他怔怔望著，腳步不自覺停下，腦海裡某段對話忽然浮現。

He stared in a daze, footsteps halting unconsciously, as a conversation rose unbidden in his mind.

那是某個黃昏，小艾從學校回來，書包還沒放下，就跑來問他：

One evening, Xiao Ai had returned from school, still wearing her backpack. She had run up to him and asked:

「爸爸，你是不是很久沒笑了？」

“Daddy, have you not smiled in a long time?”

他勉強扯出笑容說沒有。她卻眨著眼，輕聲補了一句：

He had forced a smile and said no. But she had blinked and softly added:

「那位戴眼鏡的叔叔說，如果心裡的燈一直不亮，就會看不見別人留的地圖。」

“That uncle with glasses said, if the light in your heart stays off, you won’t see the map others left for you.”

那時他只是笑笑，沒放在心上。

At the time, he’d just smiled and brushed it off.

可現在，站在這條他從未來過的小溪旁，望著遠方山頭那盞靜靜燃著的光，他忽然像聽懂了一點點。

But now, standing by a stream he’d never walked before, gazing at the quiet light atop the distant hill, he felt as though he understood—just a little.

風輕輕吹過河面，水光碎成一片片。他沒說話，只是把懷裡那張畫紙取出，輕輕展開，然後再度握緊。

A soft breeze brushed the water’s surface, scattering its reflection into shards. He said nothing. He just took the drawing from his coat, unfolded it gently, then held it close once more.

他不知道接下來要去哪，但這一次，他想跟著走下去。

He didn’t know where he was headed—but this time, he wanted to follow.

就像她那天夢裡轉身奔跑時，說過的——

Just like what she had said in that dream, before she turned and ran—

「那裡的燈，一直都不會熄掉。」

“The lights there never go out.”