山燈不熄

天剛亮，雲仍厚。

Dawn had just broken, but the clouds were still heavy.

林修遠沿著前一晚那條溪流旁的小徑前行，鞋底濕濘，衣角沾著露水，路旁的草帶著水氣，周圍瀰漫一種雨被曬過的味道。

Lin Xiuyuan followed the path beside the stream from the night before. His shoes were soaked in mud, his cuffs wet with dew. The grass beside the trail still held moisture, and the air was filled with the scent of sun-warmed rain.

轉過一段山徑，修遠抬頭看見那座寺院，望著一排素白的石階靜靜躺在山道上，只見寺牆低矮，院門半掩，晨霧從屋簷懸掛的許多紅燈籠滑下，伴隨著燈明，如同深呼吸後的吐息中，散發出點點光明。

Turning a bend in the mountain path, Xiuyuan looked up and saw the temple. A row of pale stone steps lay quietly along the slope. The temple walls were low, its gate half open. Mist slid down from the red lanterns hanging under the eaves, their soft glow exhaling gentle light like a deep breath.

他慢慢往上走，一步、一步，鞋底輕觸石面，眼前的寺院不如想像中神秘或宏偉，沒有香火繚繞和高大的金殿。寺頂灰瓦沉穩如舊，四周明亮乾淨，樹葉整齊，石板無苔，門前幾株竹子斜斜站著，風一來，竹影在牆上搖曳。

He slowly ascended, step by step, his soles brushing the stone. The temple before him was neither as mysterious nor as grand as he had imagined—no curling incense smoke, no towering golden halls. The gray-tiled roof rested with steady age, the surroundings bright and clean. Leaves were neatly trimmed, the stone slabs free of moss. A few stalks of bamboo leaned at the gate, swaying shadows dancing on the wall with the breeze.

站在門口一會兒，修遠見沒人出來，也沒有人能問話，只有風聲輕輕經過，他不確定是否該推門而入，或是轉身離去。

He stood at the entrance for a moment. No one came out, and no one could be asked. Only the wind passed softly. He wasn’t sure whether to push the door open or turn around and leave.

正當猶豫不決，裡面走出一位年輕沙彌，衣襟整齊，腳步很輕，帶著掃帚，他沒有問修遠從哪裡來，只對他點點頭，微笑說了句：「阿彌陀佛，歡迎。」沙彌繼續掃地。

Just as he hesitated, a young novice monk appeared, robe neat, footsteps light, holding a broom. He didn’t ask where Xiuyuan came from. He just nodded, smiled, and said, “Amitabha—welcome.” Then continued sweeping.

簡單的問候，像一滴水落入心湖，原本緊繃的胸口鬆了下來，修遠微微點頭，便寬心的踏進寺院。

That simple greeting was like a drop of water falling into the lake of his heart. The tightness in his chest loosened. Xiuyuan nodded slightly and stepped into the temple with ease.

寺院的前庭不大，一隻灰貓蹲在陽光下，懶懶地梳理毛髮，遠處有木魚聲傳來，一下一下，像是某種久違的平靜節奏。站在庭院中央，感覺自己好像從一場風暴的邊緣，被帶進了一個安靜的島嶼。

The front courtyard was not large. A gray cat sat under the sunlight, lazily grooming itself. From afar came the soft, rhythmic sound of a wooden fish, beat after beat, like the tempo of a long-lost peace. Standing at the center of the courtyard, he felt as though he had been brought from the edge of a storm to a quiet island.

「若您只是路過，也可以在這裡坐坐，喝杯水。若您想停留，我們也不會問太多。」剛剛那位沙彌轉身對他說。

“If you’re just passing through, feel free to sit and have some water. If you’d like to stay, we won’t ask too much,” the novice turned back and said to him.

修遠輕聲問：「這裡，是什麼樣的地方？」

Softly, Xiuyuan asked, “What kind of place is this?”

沙彌淡淡一笑：「一個可以讓心歇息放下的地方吧。」

The novice smiled gently. “A place where the heart can rest and let go.”

他低下頭，看著濕了一半的褲腳，突然覺得自從小艾走了以後，這些年來，他過得有多狼狽。

He looked down at his half-soaked pants and suddenly realized how wretched he had been since Xiao Ai left.

「謝謝」修遠輕輕說了一聲，接著走到不遠處的一顆老樹下，就坐在木椅上，還從桌上擺著的茶壺，倒了一杯熱茶。啜了一口茶，苦中帶甘，修遠雙手捧著茶杯，望著寺院的景象發呆，若有所思…。

“Thank you,” Xiuyuan said softly, then walked over to a wooden bench beneath an old tree. He sat down and poured himself a cup of hot tea from the pot on the table. He took a sip—bitterness mingled with a trace of sweetness. Holding the warm cup in both hands, he stared at the temple in a daze, lost in thought.

「這座寺院……有名字嗎？」突然，他忍不住向沙彌問。

“Does this temple… have a name?” he suddenly couldn’t help but ask.

沙彌回道：「有。」並以右手指著一塊從寺內向外才能看到的匾額。

“It does,” the novice replied, pointing with his right hand to a plaque that could only be seen from inside the temple.

「很多人來了之後，都說這裡叫什麼都不重要了。」沙彌語帶神秘的補充。

“Many people say that after arriving, what this place is called no longer matters,” the novice added with a touch of mystery.

「無？盡…燈寺？」由於匾額上的字體特殊，修遠試著讀出牌匾上的書法字。

“Wu... Jin... Deng Temple?” Xiuyuan tried to decipher the calligraphy on the plaque, its script unusually ornate.

「是無盡燈嗎？但是…這匾額不是應該掛在外頭給人看得嗎？怎麼是面向寺內的方向呢？」修遠語帶猜疑，再次向沙彌問到。

“Endless Lamp Temple? But… isn’t a plaque supposed to face outward for people to see? Why is it turned inward?” he asked again, puzzled.

這次，沙彌沒有回答，只是面帶微笑。

This time, the novice didn’t answer—only smiled.

修遠見沙彌靜默微笑，自己有些尷尬，也低頭苦笑了一下。

Seeing the novice’s silent smile, Xiuyuan felt a bit embarrassed, and lowered his head with a wry chuckle.

這時，寺內走出一位年長的居士，步伐穩重，衣著素淨。他看了修遠一眼，朝沙彌點頭致意，低聲說：「師父在後院找你。」

Just then, an elderly lay devotee stepped out of the temple—his steps steady, his attire simple. He glanced at Xiuyuan, nodded to the novice, and softly said, “Master is looking for you in the back courtyard.”

沙彌聞言，合掌應了一聲「是」，隨即轉身離去…。

Upon hearing this, the novice joined his palms and replied, “Yes,” before turning to leave...

風帶著樹影搖曳，修遠望著沙彌消失的方向，浮起一絲若有似無的波動，修遠低頭再啜一口手中溫熱的茶，指尖微緊，彷彿心中某個念頭，正一點一滴地聚集出未知的形狀。

The wind swayed tree shadows across the ground. Xiuyuan stared in the direction the novice disappeared, a subtle ripple stirring in his heart. He lowered his head and took another sip of warm tea. His fingertips tightened slightly—as if a thought, still formless, was quietly gathering shape within him.