《紙袋廠的愚園路舊夢、變老的蓉蓉與命運的轉身》

2022年1月2日：

清晨，來到了一個兩三層、類似宿舍樓一樣的地方。在比较開闊的走廊拐角處，我一眼看見了桂蓉。她依然像四五十年前那樣青春靚麗、氣質雅致。

我走上前去，拉了她的手：「桂蓉，桂蓉，是你嗎？」我們真的已經太久太久沒有見面了，整整四五十年，沒想到她竟然一點兒都沒有變。她聽見我的聲音，有些羞澀地扭過頭來，靦腆地笑道：「我不認識你呀。」

就在我納悶的時候，從拐角另外一頭的走廊裡，走過來一個老年婦女。她化了裝，妝容顯得有些俗氣，可仔細一看，原來，這才是真正的、被歲月雕刻過的桂蓉，而我剛剛拉著的那個青春靚麗的女孩，竟然是她的閨女。天底下怎麼會有長得如此相像的母女！

此時的老桂蓉對我的態度顯得有些不冷不熱的，似乎還有什麼要緊的事情，沒說兩句話就離開了。在夢裡得知，她後來嫁給了一個小地產商。看著她離去的背影，突然間，有一股強大而神祕的力量將我整個人猛地帶離了現場，瞬間，我便從夢中醒了過來。

【珍貴的現實注腳】

蓉蓉是我當年在紙袋廠工作時最要好的小姐妹。後來我去了漁業隊，偶爾還會抽空回工廠探望她。每逢深夜，我便和她擠在她那張八人集體宿舍的單人床上，兩個人頭挨著頭，在黑暗中說著悄悄話。我也曾去過她在上海愚園路弄堂裡的家。

後來，大約是在1978年前後，知青子女頂替父母進城的政策出台，她便顶替母親進了上海閥門廠。幾年後的一個下午，在上海戲劇用品商店裡，隔著兩個透明的玻璃櫃檯，我一眼看見了她和她的母親。我們隔著櫃檯，目光交匯，靜靜地注視了幾秒。

可那一刻，我終究沒有上前去打招呼的勇氣。那個時代的人實在是太靦腆了。一個轉身，錯過就是永遠。此後很長一段時間裡她常出现在我的梦中。

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The Paper-Bag Factory Lane Dream, a Glimpse of an Aging Rongrong, and the Final Turn

Early this morning, I found myself in a two- or three-story building that resembled a communal dormitory. Standing at the corner of a wide, open corridor, I caught sight of Gui Rong. She looked exactly as she did forty or fifty years ago—radiantly youthful, elegant, and refined.

Overjoyed, I rushed forward and caught her hands in mine, calling out, "Gui Rong, Gui Rong, is that really you?" It had been so long—nearly half a century—and yet she hadn’t aged a single day. Hearing my voice, she turned her head with a shy, timid smile and whispered, "I'm sorry, I don't know who you are."

As confusion washed over me, an elderly woman rounded the far end of the corridor. She was wearing makeup that looked a bit garish, yet as I looked closer, her features were undeniably Gui Rong's. It dawned on me then: this was the true Gui Rong, weathered by the passage of time, while the beautiful girl I was holding was her daughter. I couldn't believe how two generations could look so uncannily identical.

The aging Gui Rong treated me with a certain emotional distance, acting somewhat aloof. Looking preoccupied with errands, she left after a brief exchange. In the dream, I learned she had gone on to marry a minor real estate developer. As I watched her walk away, a sudden, invisible force swept me out of the scene, and I instantly woke up.

[A Precious Reality Footnote]

Rongrong was my dearest companion back when I worked at the paper-bag factory. Even after I left to join the fishery team, I would occasionally return to the factory to visit her. At night, I would squeeze onto her tiny single bed in an eight-person shared dormitory room, our heads resting close together as we whispered our deepest girlish secrets into the dark. I had even visited her family home nestled in the old alleys of Yuyuan Road in Shanghai.

Later, around 1978, when the policy allowed sent-down youth to return to the cities to take over their parents' jobs, she replaced her mother at the Shanghai Valve Factory. A few years passed, and on a random afternoon inside the bustling Shanghai Theatrical Supply Store, our paths crossed. Separated by two glass display counters, my eyes locked with hers and her mother's. We stood there, staring silently at one another for several seconds.

Yet, in that crucial moment, I lacked the courage to step forward and say hello. People of that era were simply too bashful. One turn of the shoulder, and a brief hesitation becomes a parting for eternity. In all the long decades since that day, she has remained a frequent traveler through my dreams.

特別感謝 Gemini AI 提供充滿活力的翻譯和文本潤色。

Special thanks to Gemini AI for providing the spirited translation and text refinement.

第四百十三篇 

《落空的鬧鐘、流星雨與倫勃朗迷宮》

2020年8月13日：流星雨與鬧鐘預言

做了一個夢，跟我一起去一個偏遠地區的幾個朋友，在我一覺醒來後不見了。我問當地人，說他們已經離開了。我很懊惱當地人怎麼不叫醒我，也怨一起來的朋友沒叫我一塊兒走。將要去哪兒都不知道。

當地人昨晚還對我們很友好的呢，她們給我的感覺是老實、質樸，但是一覺醒來卻對我變得不誠實了呢。

當即我也在懊惱中真正的醒來，一看我設置的3：50的鬧鐘時間已過，已經是4點多了。原來我設置鬧鐘時應該設置是AM的，卻搞錯了在PM上。這個夢提醒我已經睡過頭了。

上到露台上，或者是4：24了，沒人。空姐說是今天早上要來看流星雨的，因為昨天她去了太早，沒有看到。

露台上的燈沒亮，昨天是早上4：22滅掉的，也不知今天是到時間滅了，還是從昨天滅了之後就沒亮過。

湖面上很寧靜，水天相接處也沒有船隻的燈光。漫天的星星，只要我注意看牠，牠就對我一眨一眨地打招呼。

第一顆流星出現在4：26，以後依次是：4：30，4：35，4：38，4：41，4：43，4：44，4：47，4：56，5：13。

2020年8月31日：三代時空與不鏽鋼鑰匙

前天早上的夢蠻有意思的。夢中的家在一棟樓房的一樓，抱西北角。胡笳要拍廣告性質的照片，正好有一個西方小姑娘從北窗前過，金髮、純真、可愛，手裡拿著一小束花草，記得有狗尾巴草。正好符合廣告畫面，我們就叫她站在窗前的草地上給我們做模特兒。

我們來到草地上，胡笳著手拍片，我也突然想拍幾張，就走進樓去想取手機來。走廊裡，家門半開著，從門口往裡看，屋子裡擺設都不認識了，窗簾、桌布、床上用品都是白色的，像是病房。納悶兒怎麼不一會兒家就變了，於是朝走廊的另外一頭走去，心想也許家在那頭吧。

不知怎的沒找到家，就出了樓，進出口不是同一個。出了樓就覺得環境很陌生。心想轉一圈吧，圍繞大樓轉一圈總會找到胡笳的，他正給小姑娘拍照呢。

往樓的左側一瞧，哇！好幽靜的去處，眼前是一大片古代的荒蕪地帶，荒蕪並不感到肅殺、蕭條。不見人煙，遠近卻有三四道籬笆，與院子入口處帶著小小雨棚的柴扉。是那種粗細不均的樹枝幹圍成的籬笆，不見門扇，也許是都敞著所以看不見門。整個區域古朴、清淡、自然，基調土黃、天空清灰，給人的感覺是一片久遠、久遠、久遠年代的地方。

很想去看看，但是目前我只能先圍繞大樓轉一圈，找人要緊。樓在身後右側。心想只要圍著樓轉就走不丟了。

向右沒走幾步，場景開始鮮亮起來，有了色彩，還有人走動，都是洋人，但也都是質樸的人，有點像荷蘭繪畫大師倫勃朗（Rembrandt）或維米爾（Vermeer）畫中的人物。

這時發覺我正繞圈的大樓變成了一條街，根本就沒向右拐的路，也就是說我已經轉不回去了。心想還有一招就是按原路退回去。

正想著怎麼辦，往右一看，發覺已經来到了一個大大的街心廣場邊緣，遠處廣場上感覺有中心噴泉水池，還有不少花崗岩雕像，高大威武超現實，那尺寸要比正常的雕像要高四五倍，要仰頭看，才能看全。

剛來得及看了一眼一個十多米開外 的石獅子，昂首、挺拔，表面刀削斧砍沒有弧線，感覺有些抽象，它是離我最近的雕像。正想走近細細觀賞，不知怎麼覺得好困，不知不覺就已經在廣場邊緣躺了下來。

突然感覺身下有動靜，發覺我正躺在一個地面有拼縫的地方，裡面那部分似乎是圓形的，十米開外的地面中間有一個不規則缺口。空中有一個與缺口相對應的不鏽鋼樣的金屬條彎曲成的「鑰匙」往下降，說是鑰匙但不是常人中的鑰匙形狀，如果那鑰匙碰到了地面上的「鎖」也就是那個缺口，一定會嚴絲合縫的。

這時好像有路人提醒，說是趕快往邊上稍稍。我立刻向外側滾了一下離開那條縫隙，地面動靜大了點兒，感覺如果那鑰匙碰到鎖，地面就會被啟動、或升或降。有點恐怖呢。

就在那鑰匙剛要伸進鎖眼的一瞬間，我突然從恍惚中醒來。

奇怪的夢，有東方的古代場景，有西方16～17世紀中的人物，又有超級宏偉的未知地方。

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The Missed Alarm, a Meteor Shower, and the Rembrandt Labyrinth

August 13, 2020: Somatic Alarm Clock

I had a dream: several friends who had traveled with me to a remote region vanished the moment I awoke. I questioned the locals, who informed me they had already departed. I felt immense frustration at the locals for failing to wake me, and resented my companions for leaving without taking me along. I had absolutely no idea where they were headed.

The locals had been incredibly friendly to us just the night before, giving me an impression of honesty and rustic simplicity; yet, upon waking, how had they suddenly become deceitful toward me?

Marooned in this frustration, I suddenly snapped awake in reality. Glancing at my clock, the 3:50 AM alarm I had set had already passed; it was already after 4:00 AM. As it turned out, when setting the alarm, I should have selected AM, but accidentally left it on PM. This dream was a literal warning that I had overslept.

Stepping out onto the terrace, it was already 4:24 AM; no one was there. The flight attendant had mentioned she was coming to watch the meteor shower this morning because she had gone out too early yesterday and missed it.

The lights on the terrace remained unlit; yesterday they had shut off at 4:22 AM, and I didn't know if they had shut off on schedule today or if they had simply failed to illuminate at all since yesterday.

The lake's surface was incredibly serene, and no boat lights flared along the horizon where the water met the sky. The sky was densely packed with stars; whenever I focused my attention on one, it would blink back at me in greeting.

The first shooting star materialized at 4:26 AM, followed in succession by: 4:30, 4:35, 4:38, 4:41, 4:43, 4:44, 4:47, 4:56, and 5:13 AM.

August 31, 2020: Three-Era Labyrinth

The dream from the morning before last was quite fascinating. In the dream, our home was situated on the first floor of a building, occupying the northwest corner. Hu Jia intended to shoot some promotional advertisements, and just then, a young Western girl walked past our north window. She was blonde, pure, and adorable, holding a small bouquet of wildflowers and grass—I vividly remember it contained foxtail grass. It matched the advertisement composition perfectly, so we called out, asking her to stand on the lawn before the window to act as our model.

We stepped out onto the grass, and as Hu Jia commenced the shoot, I suddenly desired to capture a few photos myself, so I walked back into the building to retrieve my mobile phone.

Inside the corridor, our apartment door stood ajar. Peeking inside from the threshold, I failed to recognize any of the furnishings; the curtains, tablecloths, and bedding were entirely white, resembling a hospital ward. Bewildered by how our home had transformed in a mere fraction of a moment, I walked toward the opposing end of the corridor, thinking perhaps our actual home lay down that way.

Somehow, I failed to locate our apartment and exited the building; the entrance and exit were not the same. The moment I cleared the structure, the surroundings felt completely unfamiliar.

I figured I would walk a full circle around the perimeter; by tracing the building, I would bound to rediscover Hu Jia, as he was still outside photographing the young girl.

Glancing toward the left side of the building—wow! What an incredibly serene sanctuary. Spread before my eyes was a massive expanse of an ancient, desolate wilderness, yet the desolation felt neither harsh nor bleak. There was zero sign of human habitation, yet near and far stood three or four rows of fences, alongside a rustic brushwood gate capped with a tiny awning at a courtyard entrance. The fences were constructed of unevenly thick tree trunks and branches; no actual door panels were visible, perhaps because they were slung wide open and thus hidden. The entire sector was rustic, muted, and natural, cast in an underlying tone of earthen-yellow beneath a clear, ash-gray sky. It delivered a profound sensation of an incredibly distant, ancient era.

I deeply desired to explore it, but at present, I could only focus on circling the building first—finding my companions was the priority. The building sat behind me to the right. I figured as long as I kept tracing the structure, I couldn't lose my way.

Walking a few paces to the right, the scenery suddenly became vibrant, taking on brilliant color as people began moving about. They were all Westerners, yet they were deeply rustic individuals, strongly resembling the subjects within the masterpieces of the Dutch painters Rembrandt or Vermeer.

Just then, I realized the building I was circling had transformed entirely into a solid street; there was absolutely no path branching back to the right, meaning I could no longer loop back. I figured I had one tactic left: to retrace my steps along the original route.

Just as I was deliberating on what to do, I glanced to the right and discovered I had arrived at the outer perimeter of a colossal city square. In the distance, I could discern a central fountain pool accompanied by numerous granite statues—towering, imposing, and surreal. Their dimensions were four to five times taller than normal statues; one had to tilt their head entirely back just to take them in.

I barely managed to catch a single glimpse of a stone lion standing over ten meters away—its head held high, erect, its surfaces sharply chiseled like the blows of an axe without a single curve, appearing quite abstract. It was the closest sculpture to me. Just as I intended to step closer for a detailed inspection, an intense drowsiness washed over me out of nowhere, and subconsciously, I lay down right along the edge of the square.

Suddenly, I felt a heavy motion beneath my body, realizing I was lying directly over a seam in the ground. The interior section of that seam appeared to be circular, and a ten-meter distance away, an irregular cutout gap sat in the center of the ground. Hanging in the sky was a curved, stainless-steel-like metal bar shaped like a "key," descending slowly toward the cutout. Though it was called a key, it lacked the shape of a normal human key; yet, if that key met the "lock"—the irregular gap in the ground—it would undoubtedly fit with an iron-tight, seamless seal.

Just then, it felt as though a passerby shouted a warning, telling me to clear out and slide to the side immediately. I instantly rolled outward, clearing the seam. The ground's shifting motion intensified; I felt that if that key successfully entered the lock, the entire ground mechanism would be triggered, either hoisting upward or plunging down. It carried a hint of terror.

The exact microsecond that giant key was on the verge of sliding clean into the keyhole, I suddenly bolted awake from my stupor.

A strange dream, spanning ancient Eastern landscapes, characters stepped straight out of the 16th and 17th-century West, and a hyper-magnificent, unknown realm.

特別感謝 Gemini AI 提供充滿活力的翻譯和文本潤色。

Special thanks to Gemini AI for providing the spirited translation and text refinement.

第四百零七篇

《併攏的拉鍊樓梯與高手的照相機》

2008年9月5日：拉鍊樓梯夢

夢到在一棟古老又豪華的大樓頂層，想下樓卻不成，因為樓梯的坡度太陡峭、階梯間距又太大，伸長腿連腳尖都夠不著，雖然有扶手但還是膽戰心驚地不敢下。好不容易找到另一條坡度不太陡，間距也可以接受的樓梯，剛剛要下樓，忽然整個樓梯從那一頭開始朝這邊迅速併攏過來，像拉鍊被拉上了一樣，又無法下樓。

這樣下樓不成的主題在夢中是全新的，那陣子有過三、四次了。這說明了什麼？沒有退路？想退縮卻無路？

2008年9月18日：景德鎮瓷器店與母親的轉世夢

在J家（夢裡的），他出門前託我幫他去報攤取報紙，兩分錢一份，他說已經跟報攤說好了。

不一會兒，屋子裡來了許多人，也有黑人。我納悶兒這裡不是 J 的家嗎？怎麼這些人好像來到了公共場所似的。

出門後看見一條石子路、頗有江南風情的老式街道。正當我在猶豫東西方向時，卻看到左邊數過去兩三家店面的門匾上用草書寫著一行字，其中「景德鎮」三個字映入眼簾，我隨即走去，想看看瓷器古董什麼的。沒想到，剛推門進去，就見我母親與我姑姑正站在不太明亮的室內抽著煙。

「媽媽，您怎麼會在這裡？」我大驚失色。母親沒有答話，「你們不認識我啦？」我問。
「應該是你認識我們，」姑姑說，「你母親已經又轉世了，二十多年了。」
一轉身，我看見一個年輕的姑娘站在我的左側。難道她就是我轉世了的母親？

懵朦朧懂地出了那家店，在街上遇到人便想尋找答案——我母親與姑姑都已經過世多年，她們怎麼還在那裡抽煙？然而一路上都沒有得到滿意的解釋。

朝相反方向走了一段路，終於在街道轉角處看到了報攤。那報攤規模比較大、靠街面的兩處敞開著，十分明亮。我走過去拿報紙，「三分錢，」售報人說。不是說兩分嗎？我納悶著，便醒了過來。

2008年10月3日：高手的照相機與甘泉夢

與胡笳一起度假，來到溫泉室內，由弧線組成的階梯錯落、中間有島嶼的豪華大池子裡卻沒有水。胡笳說算了不泡了，黎晨說那怎麼成，看這裡有水龍頭開關。說著便順手一捻，各處的噴水孔高高低低地都湧出水了，但出水並不大。

「哎，你看外邊有露天池子，咱們去那裡吧。」

那是一個自然形成的大水塘，線條彎曲，四周參差錯落長著各種熱帶喬木。「我去游泳，」胡笳說著便一個猛子在水裡竄出去好遠。咦？黎晨忙想：你胡笳原來是不會游泳的呀！轉身一看胡笳還在邊上，這才鬆了一口氣。

再一趟水，原來那水還沒沒過腳面。低頭一看，池塘底部全都是像雨花石一樣的卵石，小的如雞蛋大小，大的如番薯。

黎晨在池邊找到控水開關一擰，嘩啦啦，各處的水都噴了出來，由小到大。有的是從樹幹噴出的，有如淋浴的水柱。

漸漸地又來了一些度假的遊客，他們進入水中戲謔、玩耍。

「照相機呢？多麼美好的景色，我要拍照。」黎晨說著這才發覺照相機忘在溫泉室內了。他們趕緊回去取，還好！機子還在！黎晨拿起照相機，怎麼鬆鬆垮垮的？！仔細一看，原來照相機看起來完整，但裡面所有連接零件的螺絲竟然全都是卸開的。不好！像蘇式月餅的酥皮一樣，一碰就層層脫落。她趕快小心翼翼地捧著，生怕掉了一顆螺絲。

走出門，遇到一個老外，問道：「怎麼了？照相機壞了？後街有一家照相機修理處。」胡笳與黎晨便急忙趕到那裡。

一個看起來很有經驗的白人老頭接過相機，打開放在桌子上，開始將螺絲一一上緊復原。

「不知是誰幹的，拆了機子又按原狀放著，一定是高手幹的。」黎晨自言自語，又好像是在對胡笳或修理工說。

「肯定是高手幹的！」邊上出現了幾個像西班牙人的年輕小夥子，他們好像都跟修理老人很熟悉。其中一個回答著，轉頭看了看黎晨。

黎晨心裡琢磨著，是不是他們中誰幹的，為了賺點修理費。幾個人圍著看老人修照相機，彼此之間還用著法語交談。

以上是黎晨的夢。

「美麗的地方沒有水，就因為我們才帶來了水，」胡笳說，「由小到大、積少成多，逐漸把甘泉分享給街坊鄰裡。你想想，這不是我們正在做的事嗎！」

**********************************

The Zipping Staircase and the Masterfully Dismantled Camera

September 5, 2008: The Zipper Stairs

I dreamed that I was on the top floor of an ancient and luxurious building, desperate to go downstairs but completely unable to do so. The slope of the staircase was terrifyingly steep, and the gaps between the steps were so immense that even when I fully extended my legs, my tiptoes couldn't reach the next ledge. Though there was a handrail, I was too frozen with fear to attempt the descent. After searching frantically, I finally located another staircase with a manageable slope and acceptable gaps. Just as I was about to step down, the entire staircase suddenly began to violently zip together from the far end toward me, exactly like a zipper snapping shut. Once again, my descent was blocked.

This motif of being entirely unable to go downstairs was completely new to my dreamscape, occurring three or four times around that period. What did it signify? A total absence of a retreat? A subconscious realization that even if I wanted to back out, there was no longer a path back? 

September 18, 2008: The Reincarnation in the Antique Shop

Inside J's house (within the dream), before he headed out, he asked me to swing by the newsstand to pick up his newspapers, mentioning they were two cents a copy and that he had already cleared it with the vendor.

Shortly after, a massive crowd of people—including Black individuals—poured into the house. I wondered in bewilderment: Isn't this supposed to be J's private home? Why are all these people acting as though they've stumbled into a chaotic public square?
Stepping outside, I found myself on a cobblestone road, an old-fashioned street laced with the delicate charm of the Jiangnan region. Just as I was hesitating over whether to turn east or west, my eyes caught a row of cursive characters swept across the signboards of a shop two or three doors down to the left. The words "Jingdezhen" leaped out at me. I immediately drifted toward it, intending to browse through some porcelain and antiques. To my utter astonishment, the moment I pushed the door open, I spotted my mother and my aunt standing inside the dimly lit room, quietly smoking cigarettes.

"Mother! How on earth did you get here?!" I gasped in shock. My mother remained silent. "Do you two no longer recognize me?" I asked.
"It is you who should recognize us," my aunt replied calmly. "Your mother has already reincarnated; it has been over twenty years now."

Spinning around, I noticed a young woman standing directly on my left. Was this youthful girl truly my reincarnated mother?

Stepping out of the shop in a daze, I searched the streets, desperate to find an answer from passersby—both my mother and aunt had passed away many years ago, so why were they standing there smoking? I received no satisfying explanation.

Walking in the opposite direction for a short while, I finally spotted the newsstand at a street corner. It was quite large, wide open to the street on two sides, and incredibly bright. I walked over to claim the papers. "Three cents," the vendor declared. Didn't J say they were two cents? Marooned in bewilderment, I snapped awake.

October 3, 2008: The Masterfully Dismantled Camera and the Spring of Abundance

On a vacation with Hu Jia, we arrived at an indoor hot spring facility. The grand, luxurious pool was beautifully structured with cascading, curved steps and miniature islands scattered down the center—yet, it was entirely devoid of water. Hu Jia shrugged and said, "Forget it, let's not soak." But Li Chen interjected, "How can we not? Look, there's a faucet valve right here." As she spoke, she casually twisted the valve, and streams of water instantly began to bubble up from spray nozzles placed high and low across the pool, though the flow remained quite weak.

"Oh, look outside! There's an open-air pool out there, let's go over there instead."

It was a naturally formed large pond, its shorelines curving gracefully, flanked on all sides by an intricate growth of various tropical trees. "I'm going for a swim," Hu Jia declared, executing a clean dive and surging incredibly far out into the water. Wait, Li Chen thought in a sudden panic, Hu Jia, you don't even know how to swim in real life! She spun around only to see Hu Jia still standing right beside her on the bank, allowing her to let out a massive sigh of relief.

Wading into the current, she realized the water didn't even submerge the tops of her feet. Looking down, the bottom of the pond was paved entirely with smooth pebbles resembling rain-flower stones—the smaller ones the size of chicken eggs, and the larger ones as massive as sweet potatoes.

Li Chen located a water control switch along the edge of the pond and gave it a sharp twist. Whoosh! Streams of water violently erupted from every direction, growing from a trickle into a powerful flow. Some jets even shot out directly from the tree trunks like overhead showers.

Gradually, a crowd of other holiday travelers arrived, stepping into the water to laugh, splash, and play.

"Where is the camera? This scenery is far too gorgeous, I must take a photo!" As Li Chen spoke, she suddenly realized she had left the camera back inside the indoor hot spring room.

They hurried back to retrieve it, and thank goodness, the device was still sitting there! But the moment Li Chen hoisted the camera, wait, why does it feel completely loose and rickety? Looking closely, while the exterior of the camera appeared entirely whole, every single screw connecting its internal components had been completely unscrewed. Oh no! Exactly like the delicate, flaky crust of a Suzhou-style pastry, it threatened to shed its layers at the slightest touch. She frantically and gingerly cupped it in her palms, terrified of dropping a single, precious screw.

Stepping out the door, they encountered a Westerner who asked, "What's the matter? Is your camera broken? There's a camera repair shop right down the back street." Hu Jia and Li Chen dashed over immediately.

A white elderly man who looked exceptionally experienced accepted the camera, opened it flat upon his workbench, and began to painstakingly thread and tighten every single screw, restoring it piece by piece.

"I have no idea who could have done this—completely dismantling the camera internally yet leaving the exterior looking perfectly untouched. It must have been the work of a true master," Li Chen muttered to herself, as if speaking to Hu Jia or the repairman.

"It was definitely the work of a master!" interjected a few young men nearby who looked Spanish; they appeared to be highly familiar with the elderly repairman. One of them answered while turning his gaze to look directly at Li Chen.

Li Chen wondered to herself if one of them had secretly disassembled the camera to earn some repair fees. The group huddled around, watching the old man repair the camera, conversing amongst themselves in fluid French.

The above was Li Chen's dream.
"A beautiful place had no water, but because of our arrival, we brought the water with us," Hu Jia remarked softly. "Growing from a trickle into a torrent, accumulating bit by bit, we are gradually sharing this sweet spring water with our neighbors and the community. Think about it—isn't this exactly the work we are doing right now?"

特別感謝 Gemini AI 提供充滿活力的翻譯和文本潤色。

Special thanks to Gemini AI for providing the spirited translation and text refinement.

第四百零二篇

《末劫時期的黑油地獄與金色飛升》

2011年9月28日夢：

昨晚做了個夢，醒來一直努力記著，早晨趕緊寫下來。

在一個有很多東西的大屋子的一角，在亂堆著的衣服和被子下面發現我過去用過的淺藍花格子薄棉被(現實生活中有過)，又在什物架上看到一雙我曾經穿過的淺桔黃底色高筒繡花靴子(現實生活中沒有過)，便想把它們收起來帶走。

從邊上的兩扇大門中，一下子走進來了很多好像剛剛下了課的年輕人，他們順道來取東西。這屋子裡有許多三、四層的貨架，放滿了各式各樣包裝精良的高級巧克力食品。只見他們大大咧咧地亂翻亂找自己喜歡的巧克力，弄得好多都跌落在了地上，也不撿起來。我在邊上說：「美國人也免費取巧克力，但是都各取適量的一份，一點兒也不多拿。」身旁神情冷漠的年輕人把我的話當作耳旁風，繼續來來往往、拿走超量的食物。

我走近邊上的大門，推開一瞧，霍！這裡好像是專為上課用的電影院，古色古香的浮雕牆、懸掛的水晶吊燈豪華得堪比皇宮。裡面不少的人還在往外出來。

再回頭找我的被子和靴子，已經被丟到廢品袋裡，廢品袋倒是不髒，裡面差不多都是被遺棄的簇新的全棉平布茶巾。

在擁擠、麻木、浪費習以為常的人群中，我無奈地說：「真是末劫時期了。」當即聽到有人說：「能說出這句話的人一定是高層次上來的。」我馬上回頭，卻找不著說話的人。

看到我姪女和她母親倆在一個大百貨公司路過，奇怪她們長得一模一樣並且沒留意我就在邊上。「唉~嘿~嘿~」我朝她們喊，她們看到我後，匆匆打個招呼就走了，我升起一絲被冷落的感覺。

突然我被一個不懷好意、三十多歲的女人拽住左手並往外拖，同時感到背部有針刺般疼痛，頓時感覺背部開始發麻，反手摸到一個針頭，拔出一根兩三寸長的金針，又摸到針頭絞在一起的兩根扎進肉裡的金針，順手拔出後刺到拉著我的女人右背下方，並用力轉著圈甩她，直到把她拋開。

感覺到一路上又有幾個人來追，我一邊逃一邊大聲地喊著：「救人哪！救人哪！救人哪！」 (應該是喊救命吧)。

我跑著跑著就飛了起來，天色逐漸暗下來，匆匆中瞥見底下擁擠的人群中有向空中伸出手臂掙扎著、滿臉痛苦的人。

飛著飛著，一下子飛進了一片黑暗，簡直是烏漆墨黑的地方，剛剛那片黑暗天色中多少還有微亮的街燈，現在是漆黑一片，但能看到底下一團團擁擠得黏在了一起的、用了很大的力氣卻只能小小聳動聳動肩膀和人頭、苦難卻無奈、連手臂再也抬不起來、眼睛皮膚全是黑色的、像是被漏油船污染過一樣、滿頭滿臉的黑厚油膩的人群。那樣的黑暗是這輩子從來沒經歷過的，想像不出的黑暗、壓抑。地獄，大概就是這個樣子了吧。空氣中瀰漫著惡臭，我摀住鼻子還在飛，還在喊：「救人哪！救人哪！」那焦灼的呼號在空曠的黑暗中迴盪著，似乎沒有人能聽得見，但嗓子已經喊啞了。

沒有聲音的呼喊還沒停，張著嘴就醒了，嗓子乾得直冒煙兒，床頭櫃上的電子鐘顯示3:47 AM。

**********************************

The Black-Oil Hell of the Final Kalpa and the Golden Flight

I had a dream last night, and upon waking, I fought hard to retain it in my memory, rushing to write it down this morning.

In a corner of a massive room packed with clutter, beneath a disorganized pile of clothes and quilts, I discovered a light-blue plaid thin cotton quilt that I used to own in real life. On a nearby shelf, I also spotted a pair of knee-high embroidered boots in a pale orange hue—something I have never owned in reality. I intended to pack them up and take them with me.

Suddenly, a massive crowd of young people, seemingly just dismissed from a class, poured through two large side doors to retrieve their belongings. The room was lined with three- to four-tiered shelves stacked high with beautifully packaged premium chocolate treats. They carelessly rummaged through everything to find their preferred chocolates, knocking many packages to the floor and leaving them scattered there. Standing on the sidelines, I remarked, "Americans get free chocolates too, but everyone takes only a reasonable, single portion; no one takes more than they need." The cold, indifferent youths surrounding me treated my words like the wind passing their ears, continuing to stream back and forth, hoarding excessive amounts of food.

I approached the large side doors and pushed one open—gasp! The space inside looked like a grand movie theater designed for lectures, boasting antique relief carvings on the walls and hanging crystal chandeliers so luxurious they rivaled a royal palace. Quite a few people were still streaming out of the auditorium.

When I turned back to look for my quilt and boots, I found they had already been discarded into a waste bag. The bag wasn’t dirty; inside, it was filled almost entirely with abandoned, brand-new, plain cotton tea towels.

Amidst this crowded, numb populace, where wastefulness was treated as a casual norm, I sighed helplessly and said, "It truly is the era of the final kalpa (the end-times)." Instantly, someone nearby spoke up: "Anyone who can utter those words must have descended from a very high spiritual realm." I turned around immediately, but the speaker was nowhere to be found.

Next, I saw my niece and her mother passing through a massive department store. Strangely, the two of them looked completely identical, and neither noticed me standing right beside them. "Hey! Over here!" I shouted toward them. When they finally spotted me, they offered a rushed, brief greeting and quickly walked away, leaving me with a lingering pang of neglect.

Suddenly, an ill-intentioned woman in her thirties grabbed my left hand and began dragging me outward. Simultaneously, I felt a sharp, needle-like sting in my back, and my entire back began to go numb. Reaching back, my hand brushed against a needle head. I pulled out a golden needle about two to three inches long. Feeling around further, I found two more golden needles tangled together, driven deep into my flesh. After wrenching them free, I stabbed them directly into the lower right back of the woman dragging me, spinning and hurling her with all my might until she was thrown completely away from me.

Sensing that several more pursuers were giving chase along the road, I fled, screaming at the top of my lungs: "Save them! Save them! Save them!" (In hindsight, I probably meant to scream "Save me!").

As I ran, I suddenly took flight, soaring into the air. The sky was gradually darkening. Glancing down in a rush, I caught a glimpse of the dense crowd below—people with agonized expressions, reaching their arms desperately up toward the sky, struggling in vain.

As I flew further, I abruptly plunged into a realm of pure darkness—an abyss so pitch-black it was terrifying. In the previous twilight, there had at least been the faint glimmer of streetlights; now, there was only absolute blackness. Yet, through the dark, I could see clusters of people fused and stuck tightly together below. They exerted immense strength just to slightly nudge their shoulders and heads—a picture of bitter, helpless suffering. They could no longer even lift their arms. Their skin and eyes were entirely black, looking exactly like people heavily contaminated by an oil spill, their heads and faces slicked with thick, greasy black muck. I had never experienced an abyss that dark in my entire life; it was a heavy, suffocating darkness beyond imagination. Hell must look exactly like this. The air reeked of a foul stench. I covered my nose and kept flying, still wailing, "Save them! Save them!" My anxious, burning cries echoed through the vast, empty darkness, seemingly unheard by anyone, until my throat rasped completely hoarse.

The voiceless screaming was still roaring when I snapped awake, my mouth thrown open and my throat so bone-dry it felt as though smoke were rising from it. The digital clock on my nightstand read 3:47 AM.

特別感謝 Gemini AI 提供充滿活力的翻譯和文本潤色。

Special thanks to Gemini AI for providing the spirited translation and text refinement.

第三百九十九篇

《四〇八〇年的三千歲旅人》

2007年12月？日夢:

在一間屋子裡，看到小玉只有三、四歲大，手裡拿著一把各種不同大小的餅乾在吃。

我對在裡面忙著的Pip說，奇怪！小玉應該有四十多了，怎麼才這麼大？

我從小玉手裡取了一塊餅乾，用牙齒咬住又伸過去遞給小玉。小玉用她的小嘴接過餅乾。咦~我還真碰到她的嘴唇呢，是真的！我對Pip說。

我走出門外逢人就問，今年是幾幾年？我想搞清楚為什麼小玉變小了。別人以為我不正常。於是我對人們說，對不起我剛生了一場病，失去了記憶，請告訴我今年是幾幾年？日子是往前挪了還是往後挪了？得到的是2190、4080、4080年等等不一樣的答案。

我又進入一間大屋子，裡面有很多二十左右的年輕人。我問他們同樣的問題，我告訴他們也許我曾經歷了一場車禍，失去了記憶。我記得的年代是1944年。我請求他們每個人分別各自在紙上也寫年月日。他們也驚訝地表示不信，結果他們還是幾個人一堆交頭接耳，交給我的紙片上還是不同的日期。我就想，找出相同的，多的就是了，找到了2張紙上都寫了4080，跟我在沒進屋時的一個答案一樣。年代的部分是數字，但月份和日期就是我不認得的簡單了的漢字。

原來你們長得跟我們的年代一個樣子，頭也差不多大小。我對他們說，同時用手比劃著。如果說今年是4080年的話，我應該有三千多歲了？怎麼我一點兒都不顯老呢？！

**********************************

The Three-Thousand-Year-Old Traveler in the Year 4080

Inside a room, I saw Xiao Yu, but she was only three or four years old, holding a handful of biscuits of various sizes and eating them.

I turned to Pip, who was busily working nearby, and said in bewilderment, "How strange! Xiao Yu should be in her forties by now. Why is she so tiny?"

I gently took a piece of biscuit from Xiao Yu’s hand, held it between my own teeth, and leaned over to offer it back to her. Xiao Yu leaned in with her tiny mouth to take the biscuit. Wow~ I actually felt the physical touch of her lips. 'It’s real!' I exclaimed to Pip.

I walked outside, asking every person I met, "What year is it this year?" I was desperate to figure out why Xiao Yu had shrunk. People looked at me as if I were insane. So, I lied and told them, "I’m so sorry, I’ve just recovered from a severe illness and lost my memory. Please tell me, what year is it? Is time moving forward or backward?" The answers I received were entirely inconsistent: 2190, 4080, 4080, and so on.

I then entered a massive hall filled with about a hundred young people in their twenties. I asked them the same question, explaining that I might have been in a car accident and lost my memory. "The era I remember is 1944," I told them. I requested that each of them write down the year, month, and day on a piece of paper. They looked at me with astonished disbelief, but eventually, they huddled together in small groups, whispering amongst themselves before handing me slips of paper—each still bearing completely different dates. I thought to myself: If I find the ones that match, whichever number appears the most must be the correct one. Sure enough, I found two slips that both read "4080," matching an answer I had received before entering the hall. The year portion consisted of regular numerals, but the month and day were written in simplified, strange characters that I couldn't recognize.

"So, you all look exactly like the people from my era, and your heads are about the same size too," I said to them, gesturing with my hands. "If this really is the year 4080, then I must be over three thousand years old? How is it that I don't look old at all?!"

特別感謝 Gemini AI 提供充滿活力的翻譯和文本潤色。

Special thanks to Gemini AI for providing the spirited translation and text refinement.

第三百九十七篇

《通往彼岸桃花源的密碼：數字6與不銹鋼飛鳥》

2007年12月01日靈魂不死夢：

夢見許多過世了的人，其中也有我母親。他們大多在中、老年紀，但仍然生活得很自在。有成雙成對的夫妻、也有還在交朋友、談戀愛。我母親就在談朋友，有十一個對象，我還為她辯道：只要是單身就可以談朋友，多少都沒關係。【母親在世時是傳統的舊時代的思維，好馬不配雙鞍，好女不嫁二郎。】

我問他們：「為什麼我們活著的人看不到他們，」他們卻說：「他們可以看到我們。」我想證實一下他們確實存在，我試圖抓住一個人的手，等到白天可以告訴活著的人他們確實存在。

我告訴活著的人，靈魂不死，人們不信。我就叫人們在屋子外邊等著，聽動靜。屋子沒有門，門洞與窗口都敞開著，我在昏暗的屋子裡，隔開一塊薄薄的上面用黑色炭筆塗寫著許多字樣和圖案的木板，跟那些過世了的人交談，我還特地大聲說話。等我說完話，出去問外面的人們是否聽到我們屋裡的交談，人們都搖頭說什麼也沒聽見。我氣得不行，明明我看見了他們怎麼就看不見？明明我為了他們能聽到而大聲與靈界人交談可他們就是聽不到。

可能是靈界的人要幫助我，在黃昏時分出現過一、兩個過世了的曾經是有名的人物幻影。一個是阻擊手西方人，穿著迷彩綠軍服。在他們出現的短短時間裡，只有幾個孩子看到了。幻影消失後卻留下了他使用過的槍，槍管還熱著。

後來在街上看到舊報紙，我馬上趴在地上查看報紙的日期。很難看到日期，等終於看到日期了又看不懂。在月的前面是「寺」字，還有幾個字母出現在日的前面，包括「竹」字頭的一半。

2009年9月10日夢：

我走在沿河邊的一條小街上，好像是丘陵地帶，因此確切地說這河應該是山澗，澗底和岸邊遍布大小石塊兒，街道也就跟著自然山坡上上下下，路也由石板鋪成。路邊參差錯落著由水泥或石頭壘的房屋，灰白色調、貧瘠、樸素但都很幹淨；高的也只有兩層。

上了個坡，就到家了，好像第一次來這裡，母親不在家。我收拾屋子，整理完畢，做在門口的石階上可以看到不深的河水、碎石河灘，及小街風光。

母親在下坡的一塊小空地跟人聊天兒，招呼我過去。

不知怎麼我沒到母親那裡，就跟一個老太太背對背地睡在一個硬板床上；沒門沒窗但不冷。睡了一會兒我溜下床，想著去母親的家去拿我放在那裡的相機和錢包等。

天還不算黑，我使勁看了看附近的樣子好記住回來的路；看見一個高高的桿子上面有個圓牌子，灰白底色的牌子上畫了一個圓圈，圓圈裡面是一個阿拉伯字母6。

走著走著就迷了路，找不著母親的住處了，照理說沿河走不會走丟的。

再走一會兒，看見沿河這邊的山路堵塞、房屋倒塌、或正在朝河的方向滑坡墜毀；好像剛剛經歷過地震；但是沒見人受傷，有參加救護的村民。

我找到人問路，說我要去那個有6字牌子的地方。那人說回去的路已經不通，你只好沿著這條河繼續往前走，直到碰到大橋或是什麼能過了河，在河對面轉回來，繞到山腳下，才有可能回家。有多遠的路程，一個小時能行嗎？我問；那人搖頭。

天漸漸黑下來，我身無分文，下身只穿了一條短褲。

我決定不論多麼困難也要自己往回走，沒走多遠，突然看到一條一尺來寬的石塊小路橫在河床上，而且這裡的水淺得沒有沒過這條石路。我就急忙一腳深一腳淺地奔跑了過去，上了岸。

這裡的景色跟河對岸不一樣，房子更正氣一點。在路邊小灌木叢的枯枝上看到一個巨大的已經曬幹了的紫紅色的章魚。

再走幾步，看見沿河有排一人高的竹樓，低下空架子，上層沒牆但有簾子，還露出幾雙小腳。撩開一看，原來是幼稚園的睡床，幾個孩子熟睡著。這床是斜的，低處向河，好傢伙，一不小心就會滑下去的，是為了培養孩子們游泳的？

盤算著待會兒，天黑了就在那裡睡覺。

再走幾步，發覺這裡的房舍都很古色古香，從門窗看進去，裡面的擺設都是紅木、梨木、桃花木等雕刻鏤花古典美觀的硬木家具，還有考究的厚重木料大門。

家中休閒的老人們，健康的皮膚古銅色，穿著古樸得體，表情溫厚善良。好啊~我感嘆，多虧了有那地震和塌方，我迷了路才來到這裡。這裡跟河對岸如此不同，安逸、逍遙、古樸、典雅如入桃花源。

走著走著，河流分出幾叉了，且寬了許多，我徹底迷了路。我問一個老人，說我要找那個有6字招牌的去處。

回答我的確是個妙齡女郎，她給我看一本小冊子，我沒帶眼鏡，我說，你能不能給我一張地圖？「我正要進屋子給你去複印呢。」她說著就進了那大門，我沒跟進去，便醒來了。

2017年2月8日夢：

半夜3點多，醒來跟Pip說了剛剛做的夢，他每天這時候都在電腦前。睡不著了，乾脆起來記錄夢境（現在三點半左右）：

剛剛夢中看到百公尺開外大山的崖壁一側，有三條不同高度上山的路。像半開放式隧道，可看到，車輛往上開，一輛輛排隊，道路比較擁擠，多數是大卡車。突然我看見有崩塌現象，先是小石子兒落下，很快，大塊山石，裂開，塌方，斷層岩石落在了那些車上，人車無處可逃。接著就是山崖表面的大面積塌方。

有兩個山體斷崖，幾乎同時發生這樣的事件。

我趕緊到二樓的家窗口，叫母親拿手機給我，好去照相。一想，我們住的樓房也是建在這樣的山體之上的，底下我們看不到的路上一定也在塌陷。我對母親和大哥說，趕緊出來到後方路對面的大商場處避難，那裡的商店只有兩層樓高，而且地勢平坦。下了樓，來到外面，已經有很多人了。有個十幾歲的女孩說，在這裡，離開樓房一點距離就可以了。我還擔心，對面的山體離開我們不遠，我們樓房所處的山體就在腳下，這裡的感覺是盆地，一旦大面積塌方發生，呆在這裡還是不安全的。商場那裡空地面積大多了。

醒來。 （四點四分記錄完畢，睡覺去了）

2017年2月17日夢：

我和母親被小W接到家裡，進大門時，看到有許多年輕人在油漆樓房的門框，粉刷外牆，那裡有好幾棟樓。小W家在三樓。進了屋子我見有兩個床，很高興，母親坐靠在一個床上休息，我摩挲這邊的床鋪說，那我們有地方睡覺了，明天再走了。小W說，不行的，你們一定要在11點17分前離開的。他的意思是說這段時間家裡不會有其他人。

還沒到點兒，我們準備離開時，聽到有開門聲，我和小W都到了門口，門開了，是小W的父母回來了。他們看到屋裡的人愣在門口。我趁他們還沒緩過來，側身出走。母親被他們截住了。印像中小W的母親是不喜歡小我與我交朋友的，擔心他們對我母親不好。我在樓下轉悠，不知道來時自行車停在了哪裡。

已經是黃昏時分，我在樓下轉悠，忽然三樓窗子打開，小W探出身子，將一串鑰匙，扔下來給我，說自行車停在了銀行邊上。那鑰匙串兒上有幾個扁平的不銹鋼車料小動物。掉下來時還看到有一隻棕色的小鳥銜住，到了地上一看那鳥也是不銹鋼車料。我抬頭對他說好好照顧我媽。

2025年6月14日夢：

跟一對老夫婦去住旅館，好像我是他們的助理。住在一套大屋子裡。兩天後他們回去了，留下我處理他們不要了的東西。那些東西屬於我了。我以為就幾套老先生的西裝呢，結果是西裝就有好幾套還有十幾條圍巾，那面料細膩柔滑似乎是羊絨的。我還想老夫婦只住兩天旅館，至於帶那麼多東西嗎？這還沒完，我不斷拿，東西不斷地出來，有十幾隻高級包包，還有高級精緻的小物件兒。

我媽也在場，我找到大塑膠袋來裝，我媽幫忙拿。不一會兒有五、六個旅館清潔工進來，她們要打掃屋子了。我趕緊讓母親先拿了五、六大袋子的東西走。我繼續收拾，似乎沒完沒了。腦子裡有Prada印象，Prada是世界頂級的奢侈品，我也先拿了五六袋子的東西先回自己的住處，就在同一樓的10層。

放下東西，接著來取，清潔工已經將剩下的東西放在門外樓道裡了。我又取了一些，就算了，留下一些。這回我沒坐電梯上樓，只是走上去的。橫穿樓道時，發覺樓道是一間有門聯通的教室，大學裡的教室，有電腦等就醒來了。

奇怪我以前的夢裡，基本上都窮得身無分文。

前兩天也做過一個夢，我很富有，有許多錢當時我還跟Pip說了，但沒記下來，問他記不記得，他說好像是我的夢裡有許多金銀財寶。 

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The Code to the Other Peach Blossom Spring: Numeral 6 and the Stainless Steel Bird

December 1, 2007: The Immortality of the Soul (靈魂不死夢)

I dreamed of many people who had passed away, including my mother. Most of them appeared to be in their middle-to-elderly years, yet they were living very freely and comfortably. There were couples together, and others were mingling and falling in love. My mother was actually dating and had eleven suitors! In the dream, I even defended her actions, arguing that as long as someone is single, it doesn't matter how many people they date. (In real life, my mother possessed very traditional, old-fashioned values, firmly believing that 'a good horse doesn't wear two saddles, and a virtuous woman doesn't marry twice.')

I asked them, 'Why can’t we, the living, see you?' They replied, 'But we can see you.' Wanting to prove their existence, I tried to grab someone’s hand so that I could tell the living during the day that they truly exist.

When I told the living that the soul is immortal, no one believed me. So, I asked them to wait outside the house and listen closely. The house had no doors—the doorways and windows were completely wide open. Inside the dimly lit room, separated only by a thin wooden board covered in various words and charcoal drawings, I conversed with those who had passed away, deliberately raising my voice. Afterward, I went outside to ask the crowd if they had heard our conversation. Everyone shook their heads, saying they heard absolutely nothing. I was incredibly frustrated. I could clearly see them, so why couldn't anyone else? I had shouted just so the living could hear my conversation with the spirit world, yet they remained completely deaf to it.

Perhaps the spirits wanted to help me; at dusk, the phantoms of one or two famous deceased figures appeared. One was a Western sniper dressed in green camouflage military uniform. During the brief moments they appeared, only a few children managed to see them. When the phantom vanished, he left behind the rifle he had used—and its barrel was still warm to the touch.

Later, seeing old newspapers on the street, I immediately got down on the ground to check the dates. It was difficult to read, but when I finally caught a glimpse, I couldn't understand it. Before the month, there was the Chinese character for 'Temple' (寺), and several letters appeared before the day, including one that looked like the top half of the 'Bamboo' radical (竹).

September 10, 2009: The Mountain Torrent and the Peach Blossom Spring (山澗桃花源)

I was walking along a narrow street by a river in what seemed to be a hilly region. To be precise, the river was more like a mountain torrent, its bed and shores scattered with boulders large and small. The street naturally followed the undulating hillside, paved entirely with stone slabs. Flanking the road were houses built of cement or stone—grayish-white, barren, and humble, yet impeccably clean. The tallest were only two stories high.

After climbing a slope, I arrived home. It felt as though it was my first time there, and my mother wasn't home. I tidied up the house, and once finished, I sat on the stone steps by the door, gazing out at the shallow river, the pebbled beach, and the quaint street scenery.

Down the slope, my mother was chatting with some people in a small open clearing, and she gestured for me to come over.

For some reason, instead of heading down to her, I ended up sleeping back-to-back with an old woman on a hard wooden bed. The room had no doors or windows, yet it wasn't cold at all. After sleeping for a while, I slipped out of bed, intending to go to my mother’s house to retrieve my camera and wallet that I had left there.

It wasn't dark yet, so I stared hard at the surroundings to memorize the way back. I noticed a tall pole topped with a circular sign. On the grayish-white background of the sign, a circle was drawn, and inside it was the Arabic numeral '6'.

As I walked, I lost my way and couldn't find my mother’s residence. Logically, one shouldn't get lost walking along a river, but I did.

A moment later, I saw that the mountain path on this side of the river was blocked—houses had collapsed or were sliding into the river due to what looked like a recent earthquake. However, no one seemed injured, and local villagers were actively participating in rescue efforts.

I found someone to ask for directions, stating that I needed to get back to the place with the '6' sign. The person told me that the path back was completely blocked. 'Your only choice is to keep walking along this river until you hit a large bridge or a crossing. Cross over to the other side, loop back around the foot of the mountain, and only then might you find your way home.' I asked how far it was and if it would take an hour. The person simply shook their head.

The sky gradually darkened. I was completely penniless, and from the waist down, I was wearing nothing but a pair of shorts.

Deciding to head back no matter how difficult, I hadn't walked far when I suddenly spotted a narrow path of stone slabs, about a foot wide, stretching across the riverbed. The water here was so shallow that it didn't even submerge the stones. In deep and shallow strides, I frantically scrambled across the river and made it to the opposite bank.

The scenery here was entirely different from the other side. The houses were far more elegant and stately. On the withered branches of a roadside shrub, I spotted a massive, completely dried, purple-red octopus.

A few steps further, I noticed a row of bamboo stilt houses about a man's height lining the river. The lower frames were empty, and the upper levels had no walls, only curtains, beneath which several pairs of tiny feet protruded. Lifting the curtain, I realized these were the sleeping beds of a kindergarten, with several children fast asleep. The beds were slanted, tilting downward toward the river. Good grief, one wrong move and they would slide right in! Was this designed to train the children to swim?

I quietly planned to sleep there once darkness fell completely.

Walking a bit further, I realized the buildings here were incredibly antique. Peeking through the doors and windows, the interiors were adorned with exquisite, classical carved hardwoods—rosewood, pearwood, and mahogany. The grand entrances were made of heavy, sophisticated timber.

The elderly residents relaxing at home possessed healthy, bronzed skin, dressed in simple yet elegant traditional attire, their expressions profoundly gentle and kind. Ah! I marveled to myself, Thank goodness for that earthquake and landslide. If I hadn't gotten lost, I never would have stumbled upon this place. It was completely different from the opposite bank—peaceful, carefree, ancient, and elegant, as if I had stepped right into the legendary Peach Blossom Spring.

As I kept walking, the river branched into several wider streams, and I became completely lost. I asked an old man, repeating that I was looking for the place with the '6' billboard.

Instead, a beautiful young lady answered me. She showed me a small booklet. Since I wasn't wearing my glasses, I asked, 'Could you just give me a map?'

'I was just heading inside to make a photocopy for you,' she said, stepping through the grand entrance. I didn't follow her inside, and right then, I woke up.

February 8, 2017: The Mountain Cliff Collapse (山體塌方)

Around 3:00 AM, I woke up and told Pip about the dream I just had; he is always at his computer at this hour. Unable to fall back asleep, I decided to get up and record it (it is now around 3:30 AM):

In the dream, I saw the sheer cliff face of a massive mountain about a hundred meters away. On one side of the cliff, there were three mountain roads running at different heights, resembling semi-open tunnels. I could see vehicles queuing up to drive upward; traffic was heavily congested, mostly consisting of large trucks. Suddenly, a landslide began. At first, it was just small pebbles raining down, but very quickly, massive boulders cracked open and fractured. The collapsing sheets of rock crashed directly onto the vehicles below; the people and cars had absolutely nowhere to escape. This was instantly followed by a massive, sweeping collapse of the cliff's surface.

Two different mountain cliffs suffered this catastrophic collapse almost simultaneously.

I rushed to the window of our second-floor home, shouting for my mother to fetch my phone so I could take a photo. Then, a terrifying thought struck me: the building we live in is also built upon this very same mountain structure. The hidden foundations beneath our roads must be collapsing too. I yelled to my mother and eldest brother to hurry outside and take refuge at the large shopping mall across the back road—the shops there were only two stories high, and the terrain was flat. Reaching the ground floor and stepping outside, a crowd had already gathered. A teenage girl remarked that as long as we stayed a short distance away from the high-rises, we would be fine. But I remained deeply worried; the opposite mountain wasn't far from us, and the very mountain our building sat on was right beneath our feet. This area felt like a basin; if a massive landslide occurred, staying here would still be dangerous. The open space by the mall was vastly safer.

I woke up. (Recording finished at 4:04 AM, heading back to sleep.)

February 17, 2017: The Departure and the Stainless Steel Charms (小W家的留難)

"My mother and I were picked up by Little W and taken to his home. Entering the main gate, I saw many young people painting the door frames of the apartment buildings and whitewashing the exterior walls; there were several residential buildings there. Little W's family lived on the third floor. Stepping inside the apartment, I was delighted to find two beds. My mother sat back against one bed to rest, while I stroked the sheets of the other, happily saying, 'Wonderful, we have a place to sleep now. We can leave tomorrow.'

But Little W interjected, 'No, that won't work. You absolutely must leave before 11:17.' He implied that no one else would be home during this specific window.

Before that exact time arrived, just as we were preparing to leave, we heard the sound of the front door opening. Little W and I hurried to the entrance. The door swung open, and it was Little W's parents returning. They froze at the doorway, stunned to see people inside the apartment. Taking advantage of their momentary shock, I slipped past them and made my escape. My mother, however, was intercepted by them. I had a lingering impression that Little W's mother never liked him being friends with me, and I worried they might mistreat my mother. I wandered around downstairs, completely unable to remember where I had parked my bicycle when we arrived.

It was already dusk as I paced below the building. Suddenly, a window on the third floor flew open. Little W leaned out and tossed a ring of keys down to me, shouting that my bicycle was parked right next to the bank. Looking closely at the key ring, it held several flat, stainless steel charms shaped like little animals. As it fell, I saw a small brown bird swoop down and catch it in its beak. When it hit the ground, I realized the bird itself was actually one of the stainless steel charms. I looked up at him and yelled, 'Take good care of my mom!' "

June 14, 2025: The Infinite Cashmere and Prada (無盡的奢侈品)

I was staying at a hotel with an elderly couple, acting as their assistant. We occupied a massive suite. Two days later, they checked out and left, leaving me behind to sort through the belongings they no longer wanted. All those items now belonged to me. I initially assumed it was just a few of the old gentleman's suits, but to my surprise, there were several suits and over a dozen scarves—the fabric felt incredibly fine, smooth, and luxurious, seemingly pure cashmere. I wondered to myself: the elderly couple only stayed for two days, why on earth did they bring so many things?

But it didn't stop there. As I kept pulling items out, more and more things kept appearing—dozens of high-end luxury bags and exquisite, sophisticated accessories.

My mother was also present. I found large plastic bags to pack everything, and my mother helped me carry them. Shortly after, five or six hotel housekeepers walked in; they needed to clean the room. I hurriedly had my mother take five or six large bags of items and leave first. I continued packing, and the stream of treasures seemed absolutely endless. The brand 'Prada' flashed vividly in my mind—knowing it is one of the world's top luxury brands. I personally hauled five or six massive bags back to my own place first, which happened to be on the 10th floor of the exact same building.

After dropping off the first haul, I returned for the rest. The housekeepers had already neatly placed the remaining items out in the hallway. I gathered a few more pieces and decided to call it a day, leaving the rest behind. This time, I didn't take the elevator up; I decided to walk. Crossing through the corridor, I discovered that the hallway connected directly into a classroom—a university lecture hall equipped with computers and technology—and right then, I woke up.

It is so strange; in my past dreams, I was almost always completely penniless.

Just a couple of days prior, I had another dream where I was incredibly wealthy with a massive amount of money. I told Pip about it at the time, but didn't write it down. When I asked him today if he remembered, he said, "I think you dreamt you had a mountain of gold, silver, and treasure."

特別感謝 Gemini AI 提供充滿活力的翻譯和文本潤色。

Special thanks to Gemini AI for providing the spirited translation and text refinement.

第三百九十五篇