兩杯茶

修遠不知道自己哭了多久。最初，眼淚像積壓多年的雨，一旦找到出口，便再也收不回來。後來，哭聲漸漸低了，只剩肩膀偶爾顫動，還有一口一口不甚平穩的呼吸。不空師父始終坐在一旁。他沒有說「別哭了」，也沒有告訴修遠應該看開。

Xiuyuan did not know how long he had been crying. At first, his tears were like years of pent-up rain: once they found an outlet, they could no longer be held back. Later, his sobs gradually subsided, leaving only the occasional tremor of his shoulders and one uneven breath after another. Master Bukong remained seated beside him. He did not say, “Stop crying,” nor did he tell Xiuyuan that he should let go.

側室裡很安靜，只有窗外的風穿過竹林，以及幾片葉子落在屋瓦上的細微聲響。小艾的畫仍被修遠抱在胸前。泛黃的紙張很薄，他的手臂卻不敢放鬆，彷彿稍一鬆開，那雙被畫得長長的手，便會再次從生命裡退回七年前。過了一會兒，慧本端來一盆溫水與一條乾淨的布巾。他把東西輕輕放在門邊，沒有多問，只向不空師父合掌後便退了出去。

The side room was very quiet. There was only the wind passing through the bamboo outside and the faint sound of a few leaves falling onto the roof tiles. Xiuyuan still held Xiao Ai’s drawing against his chest. The yellowed paper was thin, yet he dared not loosen his arms, as though the slightest release would make those long, painted hands retreat once more into the life of seven years ago. After a while, Huiben brought a basin of warm water and a clean towel. He set them gently by the door, asked no questions, joined his palms to Master Bukong, and quietly withdrew.

不空師父這才開口：「後院有一間房，去休息吧。」修遠抬起眼，眼眶仍紅著。「我睡不著。」「那就躺一會兒。」「我怕醒來以後……這些又像一場夢。」不空師父看了一眼他懷裡的畫。「畫已經回到你手上了，有些事情即使像夢，也不表示沒有真正發生。」修遠低下頭，指腹輕輕撫過紙張邊緣，終於默默點頭。

Only then did Master Bukong speak. “There is a room in the rear courtyard. Go and rest.” Xiuyuan raised his still-reddened eyes. “I can’t sleep.” “Then lie down for a while.” “I’m afraid that when I wake up… all of this will seem like a dream again.” Master Bukong glanced at the drawing in his arms. “The drawing has returned to your hands. Even when something feels like a dream, it does not mean it never truly happened.” Xiuyuan lowered his head, lightly traced the edge of the paper with his fingertip, and finally nodded in silence.

原本修遠只打算閉眼片刻。沒想到再次醒來時，窗外的光已經換了方向。午後的陽光從木窗斜斜照進房裡，落在床邊一張矮几上。小艾的畫被平放在那裡，上面壓著乾淨的薄布，防止山風吹動。房間簡單，只有一張木床、一只衣櫃和牆上的小鐘。秒針一步一步往前走，聲音清楚，沒有城市裡那種催促人的感覺。沒有夢，也沒有追趕，只是一片深層的安靜…修遠坐起身，似夢似醒。七年來，他夜裡常常失眠，更何況在白天熟睡，腦海中也總有雨聲、水溝蓋和小艾的鞋子反覆出現，但方才的睡眠裡，這些都沒有出現。修遠起身推門走出去，後院竹影已從牆邊移到石徑中央…遠處大殿傳來誦經聲。聲音不高，眾人的音調也不完全相同，卻在木魚規律的節奏裡漸漸合成一條平穩的河。

Xiuyuan had intended only to close his eyes for a moment. Yet when he woke again, the light outside had changed direction. Afternoon sunlight slanted through the wooden window and fell across a low table beside the bed. Xiao Ai’s drawing lay flat upon it, held beneath a clean piece of thin cloth so the mountain breeze could not carry it away. The room was simple: a wooden bed, a wardrobe, and a small clock on the wall. The second hand advanced one step at a time, its sound clear but without the urgency of the city. There had been no dream and no pursuit—only a deep stillness. Xiuyuan sat up, half awake and half dreaming. For seven years he had often been unable to sleep at night, much less deeply in the daytime. The rain, the manhole cover, and Xiao Ai’s shoes would always return to his mind. Yet none of them had appeared in the sleep he had just awakened from.

修遠聽不清每一句經文，只覺得那些聲音越過屋簷、穿過庭院，到達耳邊時，已經沒有急切的起伏。他沿著迴廊往回走，走到前庭時，忽然聞見一股不同於寺院茶壺的香氣。那味道較濃，帶著一點焙火後的溫厚，從老樹下緩緩飄來。一位頭髮花白的老人正坐在昨日修遠坐過的木桌旁。老人穿著洗得有些褪色的襯衫，袖口整齊捲到手肘。他面前擺著一只舊保溫瓶、一個鐵皮茶罐，以及兩只大小不同的陶杯。

Xiuyuan rose, opened the door, and stepped outside. The bamboo shadows in the rear courtyard had moved from the wall to the middle of the stone path. From the distant main hall came the sound of chanting. It was not loud, and the voices were not perfectly alike, yet within the steady rhythm of the wooden fish they gradually joined into a calm river. Xiuyuan could not make out every line of scripture. He only felt that by the time those voices crossed the eaves and the courtyard to reach him, all urgency had disappeared. He followed the corridor back toward the front courtyard and suddenly caught a fragrance unlike the temple’s usual tea. It was richer, warm with a hint of roasting, drifting slowly from beneath the old tree. A gray-haired man sat at the wooden table where Xiuyuan had sat the day before.

他先往左邊的杯子放入一小撮茶葉，又往右邊那只多放了一點。注入熱水後，他沒有立刻蓋住杯口，而是俯身聞了聞，像在確認某種只有自己知道的分量。灰貓蹲在旁邊的空椅上，伸長脖子靠近其中一杯。老人立刻用手掌擋住杯口。「這杯不是給你的。」灰貓看了一眼，不甚服氣地甩了甩尾巴。

The old man wore a slightly faded shirt, its sleeves neatly rolled to his elbows. Before him stood an old thermos, a tin tea canister, and two pottery cups of different sizes. He placed a small pinch of tea leaves in the cup on the left and a little more in the one on the right. After pouring in hot water, he did not cover them at once, but bent down to breathe in their fragrance, as though confirming a measure known only to himself. The gray cat crouched on an empty chair nearby and stretched its neck toward one of the cups. The old man immediately covered the cup with his palm. “This one is not for you.” The cat looked at him and flicked its tail in mild displeasure.

修遠站在不遠處，忍不住多看了一會兒。老人抬起頭。「醒了？」修遠一怔。「你知道我在後面休息？」「慧本師說今天寺裡多了一位累壞的客人，叫我走路小聲一點。」老人笑了笑說：「我姓陳，大家都叫我陳伯。」修遠微微點頭。「林修遠。」陳伯沒有問他為何眼睛紅腫，也沒有打聽他與不空師父談了什麼，只指了指旁邊的長凳。

Standing not far away, Xiuyuan could not help watching. The old man looked up. “Awake?” Xiuyuan paused in surprise. “You knew I was resting in the back?” “Master Huiben said the temple had an exhausted guest today and told me to walk quietly.” The old man smiled. “My surname is Chen. Everyone calls me Uncle Chen.” Xiuyuan nodded slightly. “Lin Xiuyuan.” Uncle Chen did not ask why his eyes were swollen, nor what he and Master Bukong had discussed. He merely pointed toward the bench beside him.

「坐吧。這裡下午的風最好。」修遠坐下後，看了一眼桌上的兩杯茶。「還有人要來？」陳伯拿起其中一杯，慢慢吹開水面的熱氣。「不一定。」「不一定？」「她有時候來，有時候不來。」修遠以為他說的是寺裡的某位居士，便沒有繼續追問。

“Sit. The afternoon breeze is best here.” After sitting down, Xiuyuan looked at the two cups on the table. “Is someone else coming?” Uncle Chen lifted one cup and slowly blew the steam from its surface. “Maybe.” “Maybe?” “Sometimes she comes, and sometimes she doesn’t.” Xiuyuan assumed he meant a temple devotee and asked no further questions.

誦經聲仍從大殿傳來。陳伯側耳聽了一會兒，笑著搖頭忽然說：「我第一次聽他們誦經的時候，覺得很好聽。第二次來，發現好像還是那些句子。第三次又來，怎麼還是差不多。那時我就去問不空師父，同一部經昨天不是念過了嗎，為什麼今天還要再念？」修遠問：「師父怎麼回答？」陳伯端著茶杯，沉默了一下。「他說了很多，我當時只覺得是出家人的道理，聽過就算了。」

Chanting continued from the main hall. Uncle Chen listened for a while, then suddenly smiled and shook his head. “The first time I heard them chant, I thought it was beautiful. The second time I came, it seemed to be the same lines again. The third time, it was still much the same. So I asked Master Bukong: if the same sutra was chanted yesterday, why chant it again today?” Xiuyuan asked, “What did Master say?” Holding his cup, Uncle Chen fell silent for a moment. “He said many things. At the time, I thought they were simply a monastic’s teachings, so I heard them and let them pass.”

「後來呢？」「後來才知道，有些話聽不懂是因為…」陳伯看著另一只尚未有人端起的杯子，「…事情還沒有走到那裡。」修遠順著他的目光望去，第二杯茶的熱氣正在變淡。

“And later?” “Later I learned that sometimes we do not understand certain words because…” Uncle Chen looked at the other cup, still untouched. “…life has not yet brought us to that place.” Xiuyuan followed his gaze. The steam above the second cup was slowly fading.

・　・　・

・　・　・

大殿裡的木魚聲暫時停了。陳伯從隨身布袋裡取出一小方形包裝，灰貓見狀立刻跳下椅子，繞到他腳邊，這是一小撮貓食，放在桌邊的淺碟裡，灰貓這才滿意地吃著。修遠看著那只磨損的鐵皮茶罐。「你自己帶茶來？」「以前店裡留下的。」「什麼店？」「雜貨店。」陳伯用手掌比了一個不大的範圍。「就在山下舊市場旁邊。店面小小的，從米、鹽、醬油到孩子的鉛筆、橡皮擦，什麼都賣一點。我跟我太太顧了三十幾年。」

The wooden fish in the main hall fell silent for a while. Uncle Chen took a small square packet from his cloth bag. Seeing it, the gray cat immediately jumped down and circled his feet. It was a little packet of cat food. Only after he poured some into the shallow dish beside the table did the cat begin to eat contentedly. Xiuyuan looked at the worn tin tea canister. “You bring your own tea?” “It was left from the old shop.” “What kind of shop?” “A grocery shop.” Uncle Chen held his palms apart to show that it had not been large.

說起雜貨店，他原本平穩的語氣多了一點光。「她叫秀蘭。以前店裡幾百樣東西，她不用看標價，全都記得。哪個客人習慣買哪一牌醬油、誰月底才結帳、哪家的孩子愛拿櫃檯前面的糖，她比帳本還清楚。」「那你呢？」修遠問。陳伯笑了。

“It was beside the old market at the foot of the mountain. A little shop that sold a bit of everything—rice, salt, soy sauce, children’s pencils and erasers. My wife and I ran it for more than thirty years.” As he spoke of the grocery shop, a glimmer entered his otherwise even voice. “Her name is Xiulan. There were hundreds of things in the shop, and she remembered every price without looking. She knew which brand of soy sauce each customer bought, who paid at the end of the month, and which family’s child always reached for the candy by the counter. She knew more than the account book.” “And you?” Xiuyuan asked. Uncle Chen smiled.

「我負責搬貨，還有聽她指揮。午後最後一批客人離開後，秀蘭總會把店門拉下一半，在櫃檯後泡兩杯茶。我喝得濃，秀蘭怕苦，杯裡總要少放一些茶葉。」「奇怪。」修遠看著桌上的杯子，「剛才你明明在右邊那杯多放了茶。」陳伯低頭看了一眼，像被問到一件很久以前就沒有答案的事。「她以前嫌苦，後來卻總說太淡，人的口味會變...。」那句話說完，陳伯便沒有再談雜貨店。

“I carried the goods and followed her orders. After the last customers left in the afternoon, Xiulan would pull the door halfway down and make two cups of tea behind the counter. I liked mine strong. She was afraid of bitterness, so she always used fewer leaves.” “That’s strange.” Xiuyuan looked at the cups. “You clearly put more leaves in the cup on the right just now.” Uncle Chen lowered his eyes, as though he had been asked a question that had gone unanswered for a very long time. “She used to complain that it was bitter, but later she always said it was too weak. People’s tastes change…” After that, Uncle Chen said no more about the shop.

修遠也沒有追問，只聽見樹上的蟬鳴一陣高、一陣低。經聲重新從大殿裡傳出，仍是方才熟悉的節奏。過了一會兒，修遠問：「店現在還在嗎？」陳伯搖頭。「關了。」「退休？」陳伯看著手中的茶。「本來想再做幾年。」他沒有繼續說下去。

Xiuyuan did not press him. He listened to the cicadas rising and falling in the tree while the familiar cadence of chanting resumed in the hall. After a while, he asked, “Is the shop still there?” Uncle Chen shook his head. “It closed.” “You retired?” Uncle Chen looked into his tea. “I had planned to keep it for a few more years.” He did not continue.

就在這時，山門外傳來車輛停下的聲音。陳伯幾乎立刻抬起頭。他先看了一眼第二杯茶，又下意識整理自己的衣領，將桌上散落的茶葉輕輕撥到一旁。一名中年女子從車上下來，繞到另一側打開車門。她扶著一位頭髮灰白、穿著淺紫外套的老婦人走上進入寺院，緩緩上石階。

Just then, the sound of a car stopping came from beyond the temple gate. Uncle Chen looked up almost immediately. He glanced first at the second cup, then unconsciously straightened his collar and gently brushed the scattered tea leaves aside. A middle-aged woman stepped out of the car, walked around, and opened the other door. Supporting an elderly woman with gray-white hair and a pale purple jacket, she slowly helped her up the stone steps and into the temple.

老婦人的腳步不快。跨過山門後，她先抬頭看了看簷下的燈，又循著誦經聲望向大殿，神情像來過這裡，又像第一次看見。陳伯已經站了起來。他沒有立刻迎上去，只站在茶桌旁等待，臉上的神情既期待，又帶著一種小心翼翼的平靜。

The elderly woman did not walk quickly. After crossing the gate, she first looked up at the lamps beneath the eaves, then followed the sound of chanting toward the main hall. Her expression suggested that she had been there before and yet was seeing it for the first time. Uncle Chen was already standing. He did not hurry forward, but waited beside the tea table, his face holding both expectation and a careful calm.

老婦人在陪伴下走到樹下。她先看見桌上的兩杯茶，再抬頭看向陳伯。陳伯輕聲叫她：「秀蘭。」

With the other woman’s support, the elderly woman reached the tree. She first noticed the two cups on the table, then looked up at Uncle Chen. He softly called her name: “Xiulan.”

秀蘭看著他。她的目光在那張熟悉的臉上停留了很久，像在一間光線不足的屋子裡，努力尋找某件曾經放置多年的東西。最後，她禮貌地笑了一下。「先生，請問……我們以前見過嗎？」

Xiulan looked at him. Her gaze remained on that familiar face for a long time, as though she were searching in a dimly lit room for something that had rested there for many years. At last, she gave him a polite smile. “Sir, may I ask… have we met before?”