前篇 Previous story:
https://taoyundao.blogspot.com/2026/09/former-goddess-by-sea.html
下午五時，手機照例響起嗶嗶嗶嗶——嗶——嗶嗶嗶。畫面上跳出大大的17：00，以及「刷卡！」兩個字。
他滑了兩下，關掉。打從拿起聖杖和神劍的那天起，下班就常常忘了刷卡。後來家裡更多了一顆頭、一個核心和一雙石腿，生活被切割得更加零碎。考勤表上，他的名字後面跟著一排「未刷退」的紅字，像一排小小的傷口。
還好想到了手機鬧鐘——不只能挖他起床，還能幹這個。
At five in the afternoon, his phone buzzed on cue—beep-beep-beep-beep, beep, beep-beep-beep. The screen flashed a large 17:00, along with the words "Clock out!"
He swiped twice and turned it off. Ever since the day he'd picked up the holy staff and divine sword, he'd often forgotten to clock out. And now that his home held a head, a core, and a pair of stone legs, his life had been cut into even smaller fragments. On the attendance sheet, his name was followed by a row of red "no clock-out" entries, like a row of small wounds.
Thank goodness he'd thought of the phone alarm—not only could it drag him out of bed, it could do this too.
他收拾座位，把標著「密件」的公文夾鎖進抽屜——之前他老是忘記，內部稽查時被修理了一頓。他到現在還是不懂公文夾裡那些安全、價值、堅守、保衛什麼的為何算機密，雖然看起來很偉大。
椅子推進桌下，背包甩上肩。走出辦公大樓，傍晚的風帶著一點涼意。
對街的大樓外牆掛著巨幅看板，一個人西裝筆挺，張開雙臂，笑容像在替全世界扛著什麼。
那些人，總在人群前振臂高呼。什麼奉獻一生的熱愛，什麼不容質疑的情感，好像你能選擇跟隨他，是他的施捨。台下的人舉著手，像在接住什麼從上面撒下來的東西。
He gathered his things, locked the folder marked "Confidential" into the drawer—he used to always forget, and had gotten chewed out during an internal audit. He still didn't understand why the folder's contents—security, value, steadfastness, defense, whatever—counted as classified, impressive as they sounded.
He pushed his chair under the desk and slung his backpack over his shoulder. Walking out of the office building, the evening breeze carried a hint of coolness.
Across the street, a huge billboard hung on the building's facade—a man in a sharp suit, arms spread wide, smiling as if bearing something for the whole world.
Those people, always raising their arms and shouting before crowds. Some lifelong devotion, some unquestionable feeling, as if your choosing to follow him were his charity. The people below raised their hands, as if catching something scattered from above.
他想起大學時被同學拉去過的那些會所、道場，師父還是導師什麼的，講到激動處也是這樣——張開雙臂，好像非得撐住些什麼，不然天會塌。
你跪下去，他就高了。你信得越多，他能定義的就越多——什麼是善，什麼是孽，什麼人該被原諒，什麼人該被驅逐。
其實那些玩意，講的人也不在意吧，就好用。
他笑了。想到家裡等著的那位——高舉過什麼嗎？沒有。要求別人怎麼崇敬祂嗎？沒有。有人按羅馬人的方式拜祂，祂就穿上羅馬涼鞋。有人用祂聽不懂的話祈禱，祂也笑著聽。
He remembered the halls and dojos his classmates had dragged him to in college—the master or mentor or whatever, getting worked up in the same way—arms spread wide, as if they had to hold something up or the sky would fall.
You kneel, and he grows tall. The more you believe, the more he can define—what is good, what is sin, who should be forgiven, who should be cast out.
Truth is, the people saying those things probably didn't care either. They just worked.
He laughed. Thinking of the one waiting at home—had she ever raised anything high? No. Had she ever demanded others worship her some way? No. When people worshipped Her the Roman way, She put on Roman sandals. When people prayed in words She didn't understand, She listened with a smile.
今晚別做飯了，帶她出去吃頓好的吧。
No cooking tonight. Let's take her out for something good.
---
火鍋店裡，白霧從鍋沿漫上來，把對面佩姬的輪廓映得微微發軟。
番茄湯底翻著暗紅色的浪，豆腐浮浮沉沉，玉米和茼蒿互相擠著。佩姬用幻體出門，穿了件灰色的短袖連衣裙——就像一件過大的襯衫，那領子總是讓他想起上班時穿的那件。是從他衣櫃裡「借」的風格嗎？他想著。
光環在她頭頂慢慢地轉著。隔壁桌的人視線掃過去，像水面滑過一顆石頭，什麼也沒留下。她這方面的功夫，確實越來越細了。
In the hot pot restaurant, white steam rose from the rim of the pot, softening Peggy's outline across from him.
The tomato broth rolled with dark red waves; tofu bobbed up and down, corn and garland chrysanthemum jostled each other. Peggy had come out with her phantom body, wearing a gray short-sleeved dress—like an oversized shirt, its collar always reminding him of the one he wore to work. Was that a style "borrowed" from his wardrobe? He wondered.
The halo turned slowly above her head. The eyes of the next table swept over, like water sliding past a stone, leaving nothing. Her skill in that area was indeed growing finer.
他剛把一盤肉片倒進鍋裡。肉片在翻滾的湯底中散開，蜷曲，變色，被泡沫推著走。
「妳看，」他舉著筷子，興致勃勃地指向那口鍋，「翻騰的火鍋湯不就像湧動的核心嗎？火鍋料就像進入核心的外來存在——肉片、蔬菜、豆腐，誰也不會成為誰，但都在這一鍋之中，也定義著火鍋。如同大海——」
他越說越高興，筷子在空中比劃。「更如同佩拉吉亞。不排斥，不要求你溶進去。你在裡面，你就參與了這鍋湯的味道——」
佩姬嚼著肉片，抬眼看他。
「你倒是很能講嘛。越講越高興。」筷子停住了，聲音從食物後面傳出。「怎麼著？曾經在你眼中那麼至高無上的女神，現在成一鍋火鍋了？」
He'd just dumped a plate of sliced meat into the pot. The slices spread apart in the rolling broth, curled, changed color, were pushed along by the foam.
"Look," he said, chopsticks raised, pointing enthusiastically at the pot. "Doesn't the churning hot pot broth look like a surging core? The ingredients are like external existences entering the core—meat slices, vegetables, tofu, none of them becomes another, but they're all in this one pot, and they define the hot pot too. Like the sea—"
The more he talked, the happier he got, his chopsticks gesturing in the air. "Even more like Pelagia. No rejection, no demand that you dissolve into it. You're in it, so you participate in the taste of this pot—"
Peggy chewed her meat slice and looked up at him.
"You're quite the talker. Getting happier the more you talk." Her chopsticks stopped. Her voice came from behind the food. "What's this? The goddess who was once so supreme in your eyes is now a hot pot?"
「不是那個意思——」
「那你說說，」她放下筷子，琥珀色的眼睛瞇起來，「你剛才夾了佩拉吉亞的哪部分吃了？嗯？」她歪了歪頭，光環跟著傾了一下。「要不要我把自己也涮進去？比較入味？」
他聽出了那個「嗯」尾音裡上揚的刀鋒，趕忙跑去裝了兩球冰淇淋回來，畢恭畢敬地放在她面前。
「我錯了我錯了，」他舉起雙手，「請笑納，慢慢享用。」
"That's not what I meant—"
"Then tell me," she put down her chopsticks, her amber eyes narrowing, "which part of Pelagia did you just pick up and eat? Hm?" She tilted her head, the halo tilting with it. "Should I throw myself in too? For more flavor?"
He caught the blade rising in that "hm" and quickly went to get two scoops of ice cream, placing them before her with great deference.
"I was wrong, I was wrong," he raised both hands. "Please accept this, enjoy at your leisure."
佩姬拿起來，瞪了他一眼。虛幻的手指在瓷碗邊緣停了一瞬——調整觸感——然後穩穩地捧住了。她舀了一口，草莓味的，嘴角鬆了一點。
「下次再亂比喻，」她含著冰淇淋說，「就用你自己的身體打比方。」
「遵命。」
吃飽了。鍋底的湯變得混濁，表面浮著一層薄薄的油光。什麼都進去了，什麼味道都出來了。鍋還是那口鍋。
Peggy picked it up and glared at him. The illusory fingers paused for an instant at the rim of the porcelain bowl—adjusting the sense of touch—then held it steadily. She scooped a bite, strawberry flavor, and the corners of her mouth relaxed a little.
"Next time you make a random metaphor," she said around her ice cream, "I'll use your own body as the comparison."
"As you command."
They finished eating. The broth at the bottom of the pot had gone cloudy, a thin sheen of oil floating on the surface. Everything had gone in, every flavor had come out. The pot was still the pot.
他們離開火鍋店。他挺著微凸的小腹，她則維持著一個「吃飽了」的微微後仰，在大街上走走停停。
街上招牌的白、霓虹的粉、車尾燈的紅，混在一起，把每個人的臉都照得不太真實。人聲像潮水，一浪一浪地湧過來又退回去。佩姬走在他旁邊，偶爾往櫥窗裡張望，偶爾給他背上一掌——觸感越來越紮實了。
他揉著背，苦笑。
拐過一個路口，人聲漸漸稀了。
有個年輕女性從前方的小巷奔出來。那條巷子窄到摩托車都進不去，兩側的牆壁把僅剩的光線也吞掉了大半。她的手揉著眼睛，肩膀一聳一聳的，嘴裡有什麼聲音，很小，像被壓在喉嚨底下的嗚咽。
They left the hot pot restaurant. He walked with a slightly protruding belly, she maintaining a slight lean-back of "I'm full," strolling and stopping along the street.
The white of street signs, the pink of neon, the red of taillights, all mixed together, making everyone's face look a little unreal. Voices surged like the tide, one wave coming in and retreating. Peggy walked beside him, occasionally peering into shop windows, occasionally giving him a slap on the back—the sensation growing more solid.
He rubbed his back and smiled wryly.
Turning a corner, the voices gradually thinned.
A young woman ran out from a small alley ahead. The alley was too narrow for even a motorcycle; the walls on both sides swallowed most of the remaining light. She was rubbing her eyes, shoulders heaving, something in her mouth, very small, like a sob pressed to the bottom of her throat.
她沒有看他們。跑得很快，擦著他們的肩膀過去，頭也沒回。
「怎麼了……」他回頭看了一眼。巷子裡什麼都沒有。黑的。
他轉頭看佩姬。
佩姬的臉上是他沒見過的表情。不是驚訝，不是同情。像一個很久沒有響的電話，忽然震了一下。然後停了。
她對他點了點頭，走進了那條暗巷。
She didn't look at them. Ran fast, brushing past their shoulders, didn't look back.
"What's wrong..." He glanced back. Nothing in the alley. Dark.
He turned to look at Peggy.
Peggy's face held an expression he'd never seen. Not surprise, not sympathy. Like a phone that hadn't rung in a long time, suddenly vibrating once. Then stopping.
She nodded at him and walked into the dark alley.
他跟上去。地面是濕的，牆壁上有水漬和苔痕，空氣裡有一股鐵鏽和發霉混在一起的氣味。佩姬在巷子中段停下，蹲下去的時候動作很慢，膝蓋彎曲的角度精準得像在操作什麼精密儀器。她的手指伸向地面。
那裡有什麼在閃。
她撿起來。一條銀色的細項鍊。墜子是一個小小的十字架，一節手指那麼長，表面有細微的磨損。鏈子斷了一節，斷口處的金屬微微翹起，像被扯開的。
He followed. The ground was wet, the walls stained with water marks and moss, the air carrying a smell of rust and mold mixed together. Peggy stopped in the middle of the alley. When she crouched, her movements were slow, the angle of her knees precise as if operating some delicate instrument. Her fingers reached toward the ground.
Something was glinting there.
She picked it up. A thin silver necklace. The pendant was a small cross, about the length of a finger joint, its surface finely worn. The chain had broken at one link, the metal at the break slightly bent upward, as if torn apart.
「是……剛剛那個女生的？」他也蹲下來，「為什麼會……」
佩姬沒有回答。她看著手裡的項鍊，拇指輕輕摩過那個十字架的表面。光環轉得很慢。她的表情像一扇窗被風吹開了一條縫，裡面的光漏出來一點，但你看不清房間。
「走吧。」她說。聲音很輕。
她站起來，把項鍊握在掌心，轉身往巷口走。走了兩步，又停了一下，回頭看了一眼巷子深處。那裡什麼都沒有。只有黑。
她轉回來。繼續走。
"Is it... that girl's from just now?" He crouched too. "Why would it..."
Peggy didn't answer. She looked at the necklace in her hand, her thumb gently brushing the surface of the cross. Her halo turned very slowly. Her expression was like a window blown open a crack by the wind, a bit of light leaking out, but you couldn't see the room clearly.
"Let's go," she said. Her voice was very soft.
She stood, closed the necklace in her palm, and turned toward the alley entrance. After two steps, she paused, looked back at the depths of the alley. Nothing there. Only dark.
She turned back. Kept walking.
---
回家後，佩姬沒有解除幻體。
她把項鍊放在餐桌上，去廚房接了一淺碟水，用面紙沾著水，一點一點擦去鍊身上的髒污。銀色的表面重新亮起來，但磨損還在，細細的。擦到十字架的稜角時，她的手指停了一瞬。
她把項鍊擦乾，然後是那節歪掉的鏈環。她沒有用任何法術，只是讓幻體的指尖捏住那節金屬，慢慢地、慢慢地，往回掰。
After returning home, Peggy didn't dissolve the phantom body.
She placed the necklace on the dining table, went to the kitchen for a shallow dish of water, and with a tissue dipped in water, wiped the grime from the chain bit by bit. The silver surface brightened again, but the wear remained, fine and thin. When she reached the edges of the cross, her fingers paused for an instant.
She dried the necklace, then the bent link. She used no spell, only let the phantom's fingertips pinch the metal and slowly, slowly, bend it back.
「阿豪，幫我。」她說。
他伸出手，兩組手指重疊在一起，像兩層薄薄的紙對齊了邊。
她用幻體的雙手把那節環捏回圓形，穿回鍊身。動作很慢，像在對待一件比項鍊本身更重的東西。
他的手小心翼翼地跟著她的手出力，輪廓追隨著輪廓。
修好的項鍊被放在一塊疊好的手帕上。白色的棉布，銀色的鏈子，小小的十字架，表面映著核心海藍色的光。她看了很久。
"Hao, help me," she said.
He reached out, and the two sets of fingers overlapped, like two sheets of thin paper aligned at the edges.
She used the phantom's hands to pinch the link back into a circle and thread it back onto the chain. The motions were very slow, as if handling something heavier than the necklace itself.
His hands carefully followed hers, applying force, contour chasing contour.
The repaired necklace was placed on a folded handkerchief. White cotton, silver chain, small cross, its surface reflecting the core's sea-blue light. She looked at it for a long time.
晚餐是簡單的清粥和兩碟小菜。她吃了，但吃得很慢，像在嚼什麼別的東西。核心的光在客廳角落脹縮、明暗，節奏比平常慢了一拍，像一隻在深水裡慢慢擺尾的鯨魚。海藍色的光流和金黃色的細線纏在一起，在牆上投下緩緩移動的紋路。
他看著那些紋路，忽然覺得鼻酸。說不出為什麼。就是那種光，那個節奏，像什麼東西在很遠的地方呼吸，而他剛好聽到了。那些光絲的交織方式，像兩隻手在互相摸索，想握住什麼，又握不太住。
佩姬沒有看它，也沒有看他。她看著窗外。窗簾沒拉，外面是城市的夜，光斑點綴，像一把碎掉的星星撒在黑布上。
她嘴裡在哼什麼。沒有旋律。只是氣流通過喉嚨的振動。很輕。
他沒有問。
Dinner was simple congee and two small dishes. She ate, but slowly, as if chewing something else. The core's light in the corner of the living room expanded and contracted, brightened and dimmed, its rhythm a beat slower than usual, like a whale slowly waving its tail in deep water. The sea-blue streams of light and golden threads tangled together, casting slowly moving patterns on the wall.
He looked at those patterns and suddenly felt a sting in his nose. He couldn't say why. Just that light, that rhythm, like something breathing very far away, and he happened to hear it. The way those threads of light interwove, like two hands groping for each other, trying to hold something, not quite able to.
Peggy didn't look at it, or at him. She looked out the window. The curtain wasn't drawn; outside was the city's night, dotted with patches of light, like a handful of shattered stars scattered on black cloth.
She was humming something. No melody. Just the vibration of air through her throat. Very soft.
He didn't ask.
---
第二天。上班。下班。回家。
一切如常。但在他拐進社區的那個轉角時，胸口悶了一下。不是痛。是一種「不太敢」。像感覺到門後面有什麼，但還不確定自己準備好了沒有。
腳步放慢了。
他轉過那棵把圍牆擠歪的老榕樹。遠遠地，他看見了佩姬。
在那裡。在社區的中庭。
但有什麼不對。
「佩姬？」他停下來，喊了一聲。
The next day. Work. Off work. Home.
Everything as usual. But when he turned the corner into the neighborhood, his chest tightened. Not pain. A kind of "not quite daring to." Like sensing something behind a door, but not yet sure he's ready.
His footsteps slowed.
He rounded the old banyan tree that had pushed the wall crooked. In the distance, he saw Peggy.
There. In the neighborhood courtyard.
But something was wrong.
"Peggy?" He stopped and called out.
那個身影抖了一下。
然後——頭飛了。脫離幻體，朝他衝過來。她的臉撞進他的視野，擋住了後面的一切。她的表情在笑，但眼睛是紅的，睫毛濕了，嘴唇在抖。
「不要看，阿豪，不要看……」
The figure flinched.
Then—the head flew off. Detached from the phantom body, rushing toward him. Her face crashed into his field of vision, blocking everything behind. Her expression was smiling, but her eyes were red, her lashes wet, her lips trembling.
"Don't look, Hao, don't look..."
她的聲音是碎的。像被什麼東西噎住了又硬嚥下去。她努力把嘴角往上撐，但那個笑維持不了，一直在往下掉。
「佩姬——」
「不要看。」她又說了一次。然後她的笑終於碎了。嗚咽從她喉嚨裡湧出來，斷斷續續的，像被捂在掌心裡的哭聲。
他伸出手，輕輕地，覆在她頭頂。他的拇指慢慢地、笨拙地，從她的額頭撫到後腦。光環忽明忽暗，像接觸不良的燈泡。
他沒有看後面。但餘光已經捕捉到了。
Her voice was shattered. Like something caught in her throat and forced down. She tried to hold the corners of her mouth up, but the smile wouldn't hold, kept falling.
"Peggy—"
"Don't look." She said it again. Then her smile finally broke. Sobs welled up from her throat, broken, like crying muffled in the palm of a hand.
He reached out and gently placed his hand on top of her head. His thumb moved slowly, clumsily, from her forehead to the back of her head. The halo flickered, like a light bulb with a bad connection.
He didn't look behind him. But his peripheral vision had already caught it.
遠處，佩姬的幻體站在那裡。
先是腿。左腿舉起，小腿垂下來。右腿站著，但腳尖——朝向背後。像有人把一隻腳裝反了。
他的胃收縮了一下。
然後是手。右手舉起來，握著拳。但那隻手的位置不對——太低了，不像接在右肩上，是接在——他看不清。被佩姬擋住了。
脖子掛著那條十字架項鍊。細細的銀鏈貼在鎖骨的位置，在傍晚的光裡格外刺眼。而頸口的邊緣有什麼在冒出來。混雜的、黏稠的流動，各種顏色糾在一起，像傷口在滲液，又像什麼東西在裡面掙扎著要出來。
In the distance, Peggy's phantom body stood there.
First the legs. The left leg was raised, the calf hanging down. The right leg stood, but the foot—pointed backward. As if someone had installed a foot the wrong way.
His stomach contracted.
Then the hands. The right hand was raised, clenched into a fist. But the position of that hand was wrong—too low, not attached at the right shoulder, attached at—he couldn't see clearly. Peggy was blocking it.
Around the neck hung that cross necklace. The thin silver chain lay against the collarbone, especially stark in the evening light. And from the edge of the neck opening, something was emerging. Mixed, viscous flow, colors tangled together, like a wound seeping, or something struggling to come out from inside.
他移開了目光。不是因為害怕。是因為佩姬在哭，他不該在這個時候看別的。
他繼續摸她的頭。
過了很久。或者不久。他不確定。
她的嗚咽慢慢平了。光環重新穩定下來，轉速很慢。她吸了一下鼻子，然後往後退了一些。
He looked away. Not because he was afraid. Because Peggy was crying, and he shouldn't be looking at anything else right now.
He kept stroking her head.
A long time passed. Or not long. He wasn't sure.
Her sobs gradually evened out. The halo stabilized again, turning very slowly. She sniffled, then retreated a little.
「……抱歉。」她說。聲音啞了。
「不用道歉。」
她擦了擦眼睛。然後轉頭，看了一眼身後的幻體。他跟著看。
幻體的軀幹不再是軀幹了——它膨脹成了某種容器的形狀，像核心，但被什麼從裡面撐壞了。表面佈滿裂痕，光流雜亂地往外滲。四肢從那個變形的輪廓上伸出來，角度全是錯的。
"...Sorry," she said. Her voice was hoarse.
"No need to apologize."
She wiped her eyes. Then turned her head and looked at the phantom body behind her. He looked too.
The phantom's torso was no longer a torso—it had swollen into the shape of some kind of vessel, like the core, but burst open from inside by something. The surface was covered in cracks, light flowing out chaotically. Limbs extended from that deformed outline at every wrong angle.
那個變形軀幹的頂端——本该是開口的位置——被什麼塞住了。
一朵玫瑰。開得極盛的、美得讓人窒息的玫瑰，嵌在那個開口上。花瓣一層壓著一層，嚴絲合縫。彷彿那裡已經被某種完美填滿了，不再需要呼吸。
他看著那朵玫瑰。那朵堵住了一切的、完美的花。
在幻體的側面——他看到了佩姬。從什麼縫隙裡探出臉，看著自己的身體。像被從裡面鎖住了，隔著一層什麼，出不來。
他的肺像被什麼捏住了。
The top of that deformed torso—where the opening should have been—was plugged by something.
A rose. A rose in full, breathtaking bloom, embedded in that opening. Petals pressed layer upon layer, perfectly fitted. As if that place had been filled by some kind of perfection, no longer needing to breathe.
He looked at that rose. That perfect flower plugging everything.
On the side of the phantom—he saw Peggy. Her face peering out from some gap, looking at her own body. As if locked inside, behind a layer of something, unable to get out.
His lungs felt gripped by something.
佩姬閉起眼睛。幻體化為微粒，從邊緣開始消散，像被風吹散的灰燼。最後只剩下那條十字架項鍊，失去支撐，落在磨石子地面上。
叮。
很輕的一聲。在安靜的中庭裡，像什麼東西斷了。
Peggy closed her eyes. The phantom dissolved into particles, dispersing from the edges, like ashes scattered by wind. In the end, only the cross necklace remained, losing its support, falling onto the terrazzo floor.
Clink.
A very soft sound. In the quiet courtyard, like something breaking.
---
他們回到屋裡。
佩姬沒有用幻體。就一顆頭，飄在客廳中央。
沉默了一陣。窗外的天光從下午的白漸漸偏向傍晚的黃。核心的光在牆上畫著圈，慢得像不想打擾什麼。
They returned to the apartment.
Peggy didn't use the phantom body. Just a head, floating in the center of the living room.
Silence for a while. The light outside shifted from afternoon white toward evening yellow. The core's light drew circles on the wall, slow as if unwilling to disturb anything.
「那天在暗巷裡撿到項鍊的時候，」佩姬開口了。聲音很平。「我就知道了。那條項鍊的主人——她是基督徒，但又無法再當基督徒了。所以她扯下項鍊，扔在暗巷裡，哭著離開。」
「妳為什麼要把它撿回來？」他遲疑地問。「然後又……變成那樣……」
「因為，」她說得好輕，「某種意義上，我也是像她那種基督徒。」
他愣住了。基督徒？佩姬？一顆女神的頭——說自己像基督徒？
「不是一般意義上的。」她補充。「是那種……被人寫成了另一個樣子的感覺。被要求成為你不是的東西。她扛不住了，就把十字架扯下來扔掉。而我——我根本就沒法扔。」
"That day, when I picked up the necklace in the dark alley," Peggy began. Her voice was flat. "I knew. The necklace's owner—she was a Christian, but she could no longer be a Christian. So she tore off the necklace, threw it in the dark alley, and left crying."
"Why did you pick it up?" he asked hesitantly. "And then... become like that..."
"Because," she said very softly, "in a certain sense, I'm like that kind of Christian too."
He was stunned. A Christian? Peggy? A goddess's head—calling herself like a Christian?
"Not in the ordinary sense." She added. "The kind... of being written into something else by others. Of being demanded to become what you're not. She couldn't bear it anymore, so she tore off the cross and threw it away. And I—I couldn't throw it away at all."
她說完那句話以後，安靜了。光環的轉速降到了幾乎看不見的程度，金色的邊緣微微暗了一些。像一盞燈在風裡，火苗壓得很低，但沒滅。
「還記得嗎？」她又開口了。聲音平靜，但那種平靜底下有東西在壓著。「佩拉吉亞被羅馬人信奉，成為他們眾多神明之一。」
他點頭。
「羅馬是個很大的帝國，什麼種族都有，什麼信仰都有。外頭的神，他們有可能接受——會轉化一下、變了點樣貌，但接受。只要不礙著統治，他們不太管。」
他聽著。
After she said that, she went quiet. The halo's rotation slowed to nearly invisible, the golden edge dimming slightly. Like a lamp in the wind, the flame pressed very low, but not out.
"Remember?" she spoke again. Her voice was calm, but something was pressing beneath that calm. "Pelagia was worshipped by the Romans, became one of their many gods."
He nodded.
"Rome was a vast empire, with every race, every faith. Outside gods, they could accept—they'd transform them a bit, change their appearance, but accept. As long as it didn't hinder governance, they didn't much care."
He listened.
「基督教剛出現的時候，帝國沒什麼反應。只是它對受苦的人承諾天國，發展得太快了。快到高層開始不安。」她的語速沒有變，但每個字之間的間隔稍微長了一點。「而且它只認一個神。不認帝國的權威，不認別的神明。對統治來說，這不能再忍了。羅馬終於出手。很多人殉教。」
佩姬頓了一下。
他想起看過的那些歷史電影。刑架上的人，被獅子撲倒的人，嘴裡還在喊著什麼——不是喊救命，是喊一個名字。
"When Christianity first appeared, the empire didn't react much. It was just that it promised heaven to the suffering, and grew too fast. So fast that the higher-ups began to feel uneasy." Her pace didn't change, but the intervals between each word grew slightly longer. "And it acknowledged only one God. Didn't acknowledge the empire's authority, didn't acknowledge other gods. For the rulers, this could no longer be tolerated. Rome finally acted. Many were martyred."
Peggy paused.
He thought of the historical films he'd seen. People on racks, people mauled by lions, still shouting something—not for help, but a name.
他看向佩姬。她眼中有一種痛，是……同伴蒙難的那種。但又有一種憤慨。
是對羅馬？不是。對鼓舞人們走向毀滅的——信仰？更不像。
像是對「事情就是會這樣發生」的憤慨。像看著兩座冰山在洋流中慢慢靠近。碰撞必然會發生，沒有做壞事的那個「誰」。但碎的都碎了。
她眼神轉向核心，那憤慨不一樣了，但還在。
她輕輕地呼出一口氣，繼續說。
He looked at Peggy. In her eyes was a kind of pain—the pain of a companion in martyrdom. But also a kind of indignation.
At Rome? No. At what inspired people toward destruction—faith? Even less so.
It was indignation at "things simply happen this way." Like watching two icebergs slowly approach in an ocean current. The collision was inevitable; there was no "someone" who did wrong. But what shattered, shattered.
Her gaze turned to the core. The indignation was different now, but still there.
She exhaled softly and continued.
「虔誠的信徒勇敢邁向死亡，反而鼓舞了更多的人。最後——」
她的目光放遠了。不是看牆壁，是看更遠的什麼。
「羅馬帝國反而基督教化了。」
核心在角落裡。光忽然暗了一拍。他不太確定是不是錯覺。
"Devout believers bravely marching toward death only inspired more people. In the end—"
Her gaze went distant. Not looking at the wall, but at something farther.
"The Roman Empire became Christianized instead."
The core was in the corner. Its light suddenly dimmed a beat. He wasn't sure if it was an illusion.
「在這個過程中，信奉佩拉吉亞的人，被迫進入新的現實。」她眼睛也變暗。「祂不再能是『女神』。在唯一真神的框架裡，祂只能是較低位的存在。聖人。或者更低。」
她停了一下。光環側了側。
「佩拉吉亞不在乎這個。早在帝國還在迫害基督徒的時候，祂就接受了部分信徒用基督信仰的方式來描述祂。就像——」她的聲音輕了一點。「就像……一群被追趕的魚，扛著十字架，游進他們原先的女神的存在裡面。十字架放進來的時候，讓祂的內部產生了紊流。但祂還是笑著接受，繼續庇護那些原本依靠祂的人們。」
"In this process, those who worshipped Pelagia were forced into a new reality." Her eyes darkened too. "She could no longer be a 'goddess.' Within the framework of the one true God, She could only be a lower existence. A saint. Or lower."
She paused. Her halo tilted.
"Pelagia didn't mind. Even back when the empire was still persecuting Christians, She had already accepted some believers describing Her in Christian terms. Like—" her voice softened. "Like... a school of fish being chased, carrying crosses, swimming into the existence of their former goddess. When the crosses were placed inside, they created turbulence within Her. But She still accepted with a smile, continued sheltering those who had once relied on Her."
紊流。她說得輕。但他聽到了那兩個字的重量。
「但等到羅馬基督教化之後，」她的聲音沉了下去，「就不只是這樣了。」
他看著核心。壁面內的光絲，在某個看不見的角落，微微顫了一下。
「後來，教義認定、信仰宣誓那些，教會說了算。每個人怎麼信、怎麼叫祂，都被寫死了。」她一個字一個字地說，像在搬很重的東西。「原罪。恩典。這些蓋到了佩拉吉亞身上。」
Turbulence. She said it lightly. But he heard the weight of that word.
"But after Rome became Christianized," her voice sank, "it wasn't just that anymore."
He looked at the core. Within the walls, the threads of light trembled slightly in some unseen corner.
"Later, doctrine, creeds—the Church decided. How each person believed, what they called Her, was all written down." She said each word as if carrying something very heavy. "Original sin. Grace. These were laid over Pelagia."
她抬眼看他。
「祂是女神。祂的神性是天然的。不是被賦予的，不是被創造的。這冒犯了唯一真神的榮耀。」她的語氣沒有起伏，但光環停了一瞬。「不可有第二個超凡的源頭。不可有第二個美善的起點。更不容有存在沒有原罪、不需恩典。」
她的聲音顫著。核心的光又暗了一拍。這一次他確定不是錯覺。
「在這樣的詮釋下，」她說，「佩拉吉亞被拆解了。」
She looked up at him.
"She is a goddess. Her divinity is innate. Not bestowed, not created. This offended the glory of the one true God." Her tone didn't waver, but her halo stopped for an instant. "No second transcendent source. No second origin of goodness. And certainly no existence without original sin, without need of grace."
Her voice trembled. The core's light dimmed another beat. This time he was certain it wasn't an illusion.
"Under this interpretation," she said, "Pelagia was dismantled."
他的指甲掐進了掌心。
客廳裡很安靜。核心的光膨脹、收縮。膨脹、收縮。
「祂的頭——」佩姬的聲音幾乎是平的，「——被建立了整套關於自身之罪的認知。而恩典，教會判了、帝國宣告了，就灌進來了。灌進核心。」
她看著他。琥珀色的眼睛裡，有什麼很舊的東西在底部沉著。
「正因祂什麼也不排除，所以祂接納了會排除祂的，成了祂的一部分。」她的嘴角動了一下，不是笑，是某種比笑更疲憊的東西。「於是祂必須否定自己的神性。但神性一直在祂裡面。在這樣的矛盾下——」
她閉了一下眼。
「佩拉吉亞分裂了。成了你現在看到的樣子。」
His nails dug into his palm.
The living room was very quiet. The core's light expanded, contracted. Expanded, contracted.
"Her head—" Peggy's voice was almost flat, "—was installed with an entire framework of awareness of its own sin. And grace—the Church judged it, the empire proclaimed it, and it was poured in. Poured into the core."
She looked at him. In her amber eyes, something very old was settling at the bottom.
"Precisely because She excluded nothing, She accepted what would exclude Her, and it became part of Her." The corner of her mouth moved—not a smile, but something more tired than a smile. "So She had to deny Her own divinity. But the divinity was always inside Her. Under this contradiction—"
She closed her eyes briefly.
"Pelagia split. Into what you see now."
她微笑著。他想問「痛不痛」，但他不敢問出口。
「剛分裂的時候，」佩姬的聲音變得很遠，像在說別人的事，「成了一顆頭的我，整天在詛咒自己。核心也不是現在這個模樣——扭成一團，表面全是尖刺和裂縫，流出各種東西。像你剛才看到的那樣。」
她頓了一下。
「那些流出去的，在遠方被消滅。被捕獲。被修改。」
她的目光落在核心上。海藍色的光安靜地流轉。
She smiled. He wanted to ask "Did it hurt?" but didn't dare.
"When the split first happened," Peggy's voice became very distant, as if speaking of someone else, "I, who had become just a head, spent all day cursing myself. The core wasn't like this either—twisted into a knot, its surface all spikes and cracks, leaking all kinds of things. Like what you just saw."
She paused.
"Those that flowed out were destroyed in far places. Captured. Modified."
Her gaze fell on the core. Sea-blue light flowed quietly.
「而祂與萬物交流的通道，」她說，「被信仰溫柔地佔據了。就像——放在瓶口的玫瑰。很美。很完整。你不需要再往裡面放任何東西，也不需要再從裡面取出任何東西。」
他想起剛才看到的——那朵玫瑰，堵在頸口，美得有窒息感。
「我連那樣的自己是什麼都不知道。」她說。
"And the channel through which She communicated with all things," she said, "was gently occupied by faith. Like—a rose placed at the mouth of a bottle. Very beautiful. Very complete. You don't need to put anything more in, and you don't need to take anything more out."
He thought of what he'd just seen—that rose, plugging the neck opening, beautiful to the point of suffocation.
"I didn't even know what that version of myself was." She said.
她自嘲般地笑了一下。但眼淚跟著下來了。
「我的腦袋裡有了佩拉吉亞接納進來的整套教義，和『一個人份』的情感。然後我像個自責的基督徒一樣，譴責自己這個不應當的存在。」她的聲音在發抖。「我並非受造。但這個『不受造』——一定是不對的。一定是罪。一定需要被——」
她停住了。
「你知道嗎，」她說，聲音忽然變得很小，「即使到了現在。我如果講到『耶穌』而不加『基督』——」
她的喉嚨動了一下。像吞了什麼。
「舌頭會卡住。」
She laughed self-mockingly. But tears followed.
"My head held the entire doctrine Pelagia had accepted, and 'one person's portion' of emotion. And I, like a self-blaming Christian, condemned my own existence as improper." Her voice was shaking. "I am not created. But this 'uncreated'—must be wrong. Must be sin. Must need to be—"
She stopped.
"Do you know," she said, her voice suddenly very small, "even now. If I say 'Jesus' without adding 'Christ'—"
Her throat moved. As if swallowing something.
"My tongue catches."
他說不出話。
「千年了，」她說，「那個反應還在。」
窗外的光又暗了一度。核心的光暗了一拍。然後亮了一拍。暗下去，又亮。像在喘。
「那……後來呢？」他終於開口。聲音沙啞。「後來……好了一些嗎？」
佩姬想了想。
He couldn't speak.
"A thousand years," she said. "That reaction is still there."
The light outside dimmed another degree. The core's light dimmed a beat. Then brightened a beat. Dimmed, brightened. Like gasping.
"So... what happened after?" He finally spoke. His voice was hoarse. "After... did it get better?"
Peggy thought about it.
「與其說好，不如說——平了。」她嘆了一口氣。那口氣很長，像把什麼積了很久的東西慢慢吐出來。「時間抹平了一切。真正的審判不是火刑柱，是一個人在無人可及的曠野裡自我詰問。問了千年——」
「膩了。」她說。
這個詞太輕了。輕到幾乎是滑稽的。千年的自我詰問，最後的結論是「膩了」。但他聽出了那個「膩」底下的東西。
"Rather than better, it's more like—level." She sighed. A long sigh, as if slowly releasing something accumulated over a very long time. "Time smoothed everything out. The real judgment isn't the stake—it's a person interrogating themselves in a wilderness no one can reach. Asking for a thousand years—"
"I got tired of it." She said.
That word was too light. So light it was almost comical. A thousand years of self-interrogation, and the final conclusion was "tired of it." But he heard what was beneath that "tired."
「氣勢洶洶的異端審問也好，對『包容』的後果自厭自棄也罷，都不再顯著。」她繼續說。「羅馬人覺得能行動、能抵達的那雙腿——」她朝門口看了一眼，石腿站在那裡，還穿著小白鞋，卻沒有那份輕鬆寫意，裂痕深了些。「因為承載的過於沉重，漸漸變成了石頭的模樣。我甚至變得連自己、連佩拉吉亞，都不太在乎了。」
她苦笑了一下。
「至少我又能想東想西了。我的情感強度，終於弱化到不再能以宗教道德阻礙思考。」
這句話像一根針，扎進了他的胸口。
"Whether it was the aggressive heresy trials or the self-loathing over the consequences of 'acceptance,' neither is prominent anymore." She continued. "Those legs the Romans thought could act, could arrive—" she glanced toward the entrance. The stone legs stood there, still in their white sneakers, but without that ease and lightness, the cracks deeper. "Because what they bore was too heavy, they gradually turned to stone. I even became unable to care much about myself, or about Pelagia."
She smiled wryly.
"At least I can think about things again. My emotional intensity has finally weakened to the point where it can no longer obstruct thought through religious morality."
That sentence was like a needle, piercing his chest.
他雙手抓住自己的頭髮。短短的，抓不太住，頭皮被扯得發疼。他需要這個疼。需要一個確定的感覺，來錨住自己。
他想起了一開始看到的佩姬。那時她在笑，但眼裡藏著什麼。「比悲傷更陳舊」。他當時找不到更好的形容詞。現在他知道了。
那不是悲傷。那是被釘進去的自我審判，在千年的漫長歲月裡磨損到幾乎透明，卻仍然滲透在每一個表情的縫隙裡。
He gripped his own hair with both hands. Short, couldn't really grab it, his scalp stinging from the pull. He needed that pain. Needed a definite sensation to anchor himself.
He remembered the Peggy he'd first seen. She'd been smiling then, but something was hidden in her eyes. "Older than sorrow." He hadn't found a better description at the time. Now he knew.
It wasn't sorrow. It was self-judgment nailed into her, worn nearly transparent over a thousand long years, yet still seeping through every crack in every expression.
「我一開始說『不記得了』，」佩姬的聲音忽然柔了下來，「是騙你的。」
他抬起頭。
「對不起，阿豪。」
她笑著。那個笑像隔了一層起霧的玻璃。很輕，很溫柔，很感傷。
「沒關係，」他說。喉嚨緊了一下。「我知道。」
「我也知道你早就知道了。」她瞇起眼睛，像在防止什麼從眼眶裡掉出來。「謝謝你沒有追問。」
"When I first said 'I don't remember,'" Peggy's voice suddenly softened, "I was lying to you."
He looked up.
"I'm sorry, Hao."
She smiled. That smile was like looking through fogged glass. Very light, very gentle, very sorrowful.
"It's okay," he said. His throat tightened. "I know."
"I also know you knew long ago." She narrowed her eyes, as if preventing something from falling out. "Thank you for not pressing."
兩個人——一個人和一顆頭——面對面。都在哭。也都在笑。很狼狽。很安靜。
晚餐都忘了吃。
Two people—one person and one head—facing each other. Both crying. Both smiling. Very bedraggled. Very quiet.
They forgot to eat dinner.
---
過了一陣。他擦了擦臉，站起來。
走到門口。打開鞋櫃。裡面有一個角落，放著那雙羅馬涼鞋——自從換上小白鞋，就一直收在那裡。
他把它們拿出來，拍了拍灰。放在鞋櫃頂上。
佩姬飄了過來。「你要做什麼？」
「能行動，能抵達。」他說，看著那雙鞋。皮革很舊了，縫線的紋路像刻在上面的地圖。「羅馬人覺得佩拉吉亞該是這樣的——有能，但不強制。我喜歡那樣，穿著這雙鞋時的佩拉吉亞。」他頓了一下。「現在不太穿了，但我不想就這麼收起來。」
Some time passed. He wiped his face and stood up.
He walked to the entrance. Opened the shoe cabinet. In one corner was the pair of Roman sandals—they'd been stored there ever since the white sneakers replaced them.
He took them out, dusted them off. Placed them on top of the shoe cabinet.
Peggy floated over. "What are you doing?"
"Capable of action, capable of arrival." He said, looking at the sandals. The leather was very old, the stitching like a map carved into it. "The Romans thought Pelagia should be like that—capable, but not coercive. I like that. Pelagia wearing these shoes." He paused. "She doesn't wear them much anymore, but I don't want to just put them away."
他轉身去客廳，拿了兩束插在瓶子裡的花——一束白，一束淺黃，上週在超市買的。他把花擺在鞋的兩側。
一雙涼鞋，兩束花。不是供品。更像是——紀念。或者感謝。或者只是「我不想讓你被忘記」。
佩姬靜靜地看著。
「嗯，」她說。「佩拉吉亞曾經是那樣的。」她閉了一下眼。「你說得對。這雙鞋也參與過佩拉吉亞的定義。」
He turned to the living room, took two bunches of flowers from a vase—one white, one pale yellow, bought at the supermarket last week. He placed the flowers on either side of the shoes.
A pair of sandals, two bunches of flowers. Not offerings. More like—a memorial. Or gratitude. Or just "I don't want you to be forgotten."
Peggy watched quietly.
"Mm," she said. "Pelagia was once like that." She closed her eyes briefly. "You're right. These shoes participated in defining Pelagia too."
她看著那雙空空的涼鞋。癟著的鞋面，像兩張合不上的嘴。
她閉上眼。又張開。
「它們不能沒被穿著。」她輕聲說。「至少——」
虛幻的雙足，從空著的涼鞋裡浮現。腳掌、腳趾，一點一點變得清晰，把塌陷的鞋面撐了起來，腳背的弧度貼合著皮革的輪廓。小腿往上延伸了一小段，然後淡化成透明，像一幅沒畫完的素描。
「這是……妳的幻體？」他有點驚訝。
她點頭。「一點點。就腳。」
She looked at the empty sandals. The collapsed uppers, like two mouths that couldn't close.
She closed her eyes. Opened them again.
"They can't go unworn." She said softly. "At least—"
Illusory feet emerged from the empty sandals. Soles, toes, gradually becoming clear, propping up the collapsed uppers, the arch of the foot fitting the leather's contours. The calves extended upward a short distance, then faded to transparency, like an unfinished sketch.
"Is this... your phantom body?" He was a little surprised.
She nodded. "Just a little. Just the feet."
他看了看那雙被撐起來的鞋，又看了看那雙往上消散的小腿。
「不過——」他想了想。「這麼一來，妳的幻體……不就像幽靈一樣，沒有腳著地？」
He looked at the sandals propped up, then at the calves dissolving upward.
"But—" he thought about it. "This way, your phantom body... is like a ghost, with no feet on the ground?"
「你——！」她的聲音拔高了。「你腦袋怎麼老是在這種時候——！去去去！氣氛都沒了！都幻體了，我就不能再多變出一雙嗎！」
她頓了頓。深吸了一口氣——一顆頭的深呼吸。
「說起來，」她沒好氣地說。「該吃飯了啦！」
他笑了出來。
他去翻冰箱，找出昨天剩的大滷麵，倒進鍋子裡，加熱。電磁爐發出細微的嗡嗡聲。關上的冰箱門映著倒影——鞋櫃上，那雙被幻足撐起的羅馬涼鞋，放在兩束花的中間，安靜地待在那裡。
"You—!" Her voice rose. "Why is your head always—at times like this—! Oh my! The mood is ruined! It's a phantom body, can't I just make another pair of feet!"
She paused. Took a deep breath—a head's deep breath.
"Speaking of which," she said irritably. "It's time to eat!"
He burst out laughing.
He rummaged through the fridge, found yesterday's leftover braised noodles, poured them into a pot, and heated them. The induction cooktop hummed faintly. The closed fridge door reflected an image—on the shoe cabinet, the Roman sandals propped up by phantom feet, placed between two bunches of flowers, resting quietly.
第二天早上，他出門上班時，在門口停了一下。
那雙羅馬涼鞋放在鞋櫃上，兩束花立在兩側。幻足穿在鞋裡，小腿上方的截面處——出現了聖杖的杖頭和神劍的劍柄，在純白和淺黃之間。
清晨的陽光從窗簾縫隙照進來。米白色的石質、古樸的皮革、花朵的顏色、杖頭微弱的暖光、劍柄細微的銀藍流光。安安靜靜的，像一座小小的祭壇。
The next morning, when he left for work, he paused at the entrance.
The Roman sandals sat on the shoe cabinet, two bunches of flowers on either side. Phantom feet wore the shoes, and at the cross-section above the calves—the holy staff's head and the divine sword's hilt appeared, between pure white and pale yellow.
Morning light came through the curtain gap. Off-white stone, ancient leather, the colors of flowers, the staff-head's faint warm glow, the sword-hilt's subtle silver-blue shimmer. Quiet, like a small altar.
那雙鞋一直在保護著。他想。不管祂被拆解、被否定、被塞進不屬於祂的框架裡。鞋一直在。
他朝那雙鞋點了點頭。像跟家人打招呼，也像跟戰友道別。
「晚上見。」他笑著走出去。
Those shoes had been protecting all along. He thought. No matter how She was dismantled, denied, stuffed into frameworks that didn't belong to Her. The shoes were always there.
He nodded toward the shoes. Like greeting family, like bidding farewell to comrades.
"See you tonight." He smiled and walked out.
---
幾天後，他們一起去爬山。城市的西北邊，他遇到佩姬的那座山。
他記得那條步道。沒有路燈，碎石路，被苔蘚覆蓋的石階。他記得石階很窄，一次只能容下一隻腳。他記得兩側的樹越來越密，地面從水泥變成碎石，再變成石階上的苔蘚。
但他找不到了。
A few days later, they went hiking together. The mountain northwest of the city, the one where he'd met Peggy.
He remembered the trail. No streetlights, gravel path, moss-covered stone steps. He remembered the steps were narrow, only one foot at a time. He remembered the trees growing denser on both sides, the ground shifting from concrete to gravel to moss on stone.
But he couldn't find it.
入口不在了。步道不在了。他沿著山腳走了半個小時，來來回回了三次，只找到一片普通的樹林和一條被水泥封死的排水溝。
「找不到了呢。」他有點悵然。
「當然找不到了。」佩姬斜眼看他。幻體穿著登山服——為了這趟，她在購物網站上，研究了老半天。
The entrance was gone. The trail was gone. He walked along the mountain's foot for half an hour, back and forth three times, finding only an ordinary grove and a drainage ditch sealed with concrete.
"Can't find it," he said, a little wistful.
"Of course you can't." Peggy slanted a glance at him. The phantom body wore hiking gear—for this trip, she'd researched for ages on the shopping website.
他站了一會兒，仰頭看了眼天空——藍的，那種沒辦法和其他日子區分的藍。
「也對。」他說。「神殿不見了。但妳在。」
佩姬哼了一聲。「走吧。回家。」
她轉身往山下走。他回頭，看了一眼那片什麼都沒有的山坡。風吹過普通的樹葉，發出普通的聲音。
然後跟上去。
沒有問為什麼。不需要問。
He stood for a moment, looked up at the sky—blue, the kind of blue that couldn't be distinguished from any other day.
"True." He said. "The temple is gone. But you're here."
Peggy snorted. "Let's go. Home."
She turned and walked down the mountain. He looked back once at the slope where nothing was. The wind blew through ordinary leaves, making ordinary sounds.
Then he followed.
He didn't ask why. No need to ask.
---
到家時是下午。陽光從窗戶進來，把客廳照得暖黃色的。
他拿出一個袋子。回家前買的。裡面是一雙米白色的涼鞋，造型圓潤可愛。他蹲下來，幫那雙石腿換上。
「總不能只讓妳玩得開心，」他邊解鞋帶邊說，「也得帶個禮物給她們。」
小妖精們出現了。隨著新鞋套上石質的腳掌，兩個小小的身影從大腿截面上浮現。服裝隨著新鞋的風格微微變化，裙擺短了些，多了幾道花紋。不變的是她們迎接他的笑容。
她們對他揮了揮手。他笑著點了點頭。
They got home in the afternoon. Sunlight came through the window, filling the living room with warm yellow.
He took out a bag. Bought on the way home. Inside was a pair of off-white sandals, rounded and cute in design. He crouched and changed the stone legs into them.
"Can't just let you have all the fun," he said while untying the laces. "Have to bring a gift for them too."
The little sprites appeared. As the new shoes went onto the stone feet, two small figures surfaced from the thigh cross-sections. Their clothing shifted slightly with the new shoes' style—hems a bit shorter, a few more patterns. What didn't change was their smiles welcoming him.
They waved at him. He smiled and nodded.
佩姬哼了兩聲。她拎著另一個袋子——他沒注意她什麼時候拿的——走進房間。
「你等著。」
他不知道她要做什麼。小妖精們倒是知道。她們比出「請等待」的手勢。
過了一會兒。小妖精們一蹦一蹦地跳過來，拉著他走向房間。推開門。
佩姬站在房間中央。
Peggy hummed twice. She picked up another bag—he hadn't noticed when she'd grabbed it—and walked into the room.
"You wait."
He didn't know what she was doing. The little sprites, though, knew. They made a "please wait" gesture.
After a while. The little sprites hopped over, pulling him toward the room. Pushed open the door.
Peggy stood in the center of the room.
她換了一套衣服。白色貼身背心，深色五分褲，腰間繫著細皮帶。腳上是一雙黑色涼鞋，線條俐落。手裡提著白色小方包，金色鎖扣在傍晚的光裡亮了一下。雙手在身前交疊，站著。像第一次穿新衣服等著被誇獎的小孩。
她站在那裡。光環懸在頭頂，轉得有點晃。
小妖精們站在她側前方，各自伸出一隻手朝向她，像在說：看，這是她，我們的她。
「好……好看嗎？」佩姬的臉頰紅了。「潮流造型。我照著雜誌搭的。」
他看著她，輕輕點頭。然後把眼睛移開，又移回來。像捨不得多看，又捨不得不看。
She'd changed outfits. A white fitted tank top, dark cropped pants, a thin belt at the waist. On her feet, a pair of black sandals, sleek lines. In her hand, a small white square bag, gold clasp glinting in the evening light. Her hands folded in front of her. Standing. Like a child waiting to be praised for wearing new clothes for the first time.
She stood there. The halo hovered above her head, turning a little unsteadily.
The little sprites stood at her front-side, each extending a hand toward her, as if saying: Look, this is her, our her.
"Is it... nice?" Peggy's cheeks were red. "Trendy look. I put it together from a magazine."
He looked at her and nodded gently. Then moved his eyes away, then back. As if reluctant to look too long, yet reluctant not to.
「就像這一身一樣，」佩姬低頭看了看自己的打扮，聲音輕了下來，「我學會了怎麼像個人一樣存在著。」
她抬頭看他。幻體的手搭在小妖精們的肩上。
「這也得謝謝你。」
他張了張嘴，什麼也沒出來。她繼續說。
「我……我們，還能繼續待在這裡嗎？和這雙腿、和核心，在這個家，待下去。」
"Just like this outfit," Peggy looked down at her own getup, her voice softening, "I learned how to exist like a person."
She looked up at him. The phantom's hand rested on the little sprites' shoulders.
"I have to thank you for that too."
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. She continued.
"I... we, can we keep staying here? With these legs, with the core, in this home, staying on."
他愣了。
「咦？」他眨了眨眼。「不然呢？妳是要挾持我的戰友跑掉？」
「什……什麼戰友！那是我的腿！」
「妳的腿、妳的核心、和妳這顆頭——但還有我們的家。」他笑著說。「不是嗎？」
「不是，我只是——」她有點慌了。「本來只想體驗人間一下。不好意思一直麻煩你。但不只是我，還有她們——」她朝小妖精們偏了偏頭。「佩拉吉亞留下的全部。都……都覺得在你身邊，就像在……」
她沒有說完。但那個詞已經在空氣裡了。
He was stunned.
"Huh?" He blinked. "Otherwise? Are you going to kidnap my comrades and run off?"
"Wha... what comrades! Those are my legs!"
"Your legs, your core, and your head—but also our family." He said with a smile. "Isn't that right?"
"No, I just—" she panicked a little. "I only meant to experience the mortal world for a bit. Sorry for imposing on you all this time. But it's not just me, there's them too—" she tilted her head toward the little sprites. "Everything Pelagia left behind. All of it... feels that being by your side is like being in..."
She didn't finish. But the word was already in the air.
「說什麼麻煩呢。」他說。聲音有一點啞。「你們不在，我才要傷心死了。」
他想了想，又補了一句：「而且我可是佩拉吉亞排名第一的擁護者。祂留下的一切願意待在我身邊，那可太幸福了吧。」
佩姬的眼眶紅了。但她仰了仰下巴，倔強地回了一句：「我可變不回佩拉吉亞喔。」
「才沒要妳變呢。」他笑了。「妳就是佩姬。還有核心。還有小左、小右。」
"What do you mean, imposing." He said. His voice was a little hoarse. "If you weren't here, I'd be heartbroken."
He thought about it, then added: "Besides, I'm Pelagia's number one supporter. Everything She left behind being willing to stay by my side—that's just too happy."
Peggy's eyes reddened. But she lifted her chin and retorted stubbornly: "I can't change back into Pelagia, you know."
"Who said anything about changing." He smiled. "You're Peggy. And the core. And Little Left, Little Right."
「蛤？」佩姬的眉頭皺起來。「小左小右？你還給她們取名了？問過我嗎？」
「當然要取名。要問的不是妳吧，是佩拉吉亞。這雙腿是祂的。」他一本正經地說。「要不然妳請祂出面，說贊不贊成。」
「你還狡辯——！」佩姬瞪著他。
然後她笑了。不是那種嘴角微微上揚的笑。是真的笑出來了，帶著眼淚的那種。光環轉得飛快，金色的光暈在房間裡甩出一圈一圈的殘影。妖精們也跟著笑了。小小的身影在傍晚的光裡晃了晃。
他看著她們笑。他看著她們笑。壓在胸口的那口氣，慢慢鬆了。
"Hah?" Peggy's brow furrowed. "Little Left, Little Right? You named them? Did you ask me?"
"Of course they need names. The one to ask isn't you, it's Pelagia. These legs are Hers." He said with a straight face. "Otherwise, please have Her come out and say whether She approves."
"You're still arguing—!" Peggy glared at him.
Then she laughed. Not the kind of laugh with just the corners of the mouth lifted. A real laugh, the kind with tears. Her halo spun rapidly, golden light trails flinging circles of afterimages through the room. The sprites laughed too. Small figures swaying in the evening light.
He watched them laugh. He watched them laugh. The breath pressed in his chest slowly loosened.
---
晚上。
他從巷口的攤子買了炒米粉和肉圓回來，又熱了湯，炒了盤青菜。佩姬的幻體坐在餐桌對面，手裡拿著筷子，夾起一撮米粉，塞進嘴裡。
「好吃。」她說。
就兩個字。但今天這兩個字像是在確認什麼。他在那兩個字裡聽到了一些不一樣的重量——不是味覺的那種。
他點了點頭，筷子切開肉圓，夾起肉餡吃。
真的好吃，雖然吃過千百遍了。像一個早已存在的事實，終於又獲得確認。
That night.
He bought fried rice noodles and meatballs from the stall at the alley entrance, heated soup, and stir-fried a plate of greens. Peggy's phantom body sat across the dining table, chopsticks in hand, picking up a clump of rice noodles, putting it in her mouth.
"Delicious," she said.
Just two words. But today those two words seemed to be confirming something. He heard a different weight in them—not the weight of taste.
He nodded, chopsticks cutting into the meatball, picking up the filling.
Really delicious, though he'd eaten it a thousand times. Like a fact that had long existed, finally confirmed again.
吃完飯，她幫忙收拾。她操控幻體的技術又更好了，開始試著洗碗。
他把碗盤拿到水槽。看著她洗。
After dinner, she helped clean up. Her phantom control had improved further; she was starting to try washing dishes.
He brought the dishes to the sink. Watched her wash.
她洗得很認真。洗碗精的泡沫沾到了她手上，又被水流沖掉。洗好一個盤子後，她拿起來，放旁邊。水沿著她手指滴下，一根根地滴。
那隻手就像真的。不——對佩姬來說，它就是真的。
She washed very seriously. Dish soap foam got on her hands, then was rinsed off by the water. After washing a plate, she picked it up and set it aside. Water dripped down her fingers, one by one.
That hand was like a real one. No—to Peggy, it was real.
夜深了。他關了大燈，只留核心的光，投在牆上旋轉。節奏……不是那麼穩定，但有種——輕快。
佩姬解除了幻體。就一顆頭，飄到沙發旁邊，找了個枕頭靠上去。光環暗了下來。
他看了她一眼。
「晚安。」他說。
「嗯。」她閉著眼。「晚安。」
他走回臥室。躺下來。天花板上，客廳的藍光透過門縫，畫出一道細細的線。
It grew late. He turned off the main light, leaving only the core's glow, casting its rotation on the wall. The rhythm... not quite steady, but with a kind of—lightness.
Peggy dissolved the phantom body. Just a head, floating to the sofa, finding a pillow to lean on. The halo dimmed.
He glanced at her.
"Good night," he said.
"Mm." Her eyes were closed. "Good night."
He walked back to the bedroom. Lay down. On the ceiling, the blue light from the living room came through the door crack, drawing a thin line.
---
第二天早上，他醒來的時候，陽光已經照進來了。
他走出臥室。佩姬不在了——大概飄到什麼地方去了。核心在角落，安靜地呼吸。
他走向門口，穿鞋。視線瞄向鞋櫃上。
The next morning, when he woke, sunlight was already coming in.
He walked out of the bedroom. Peggy wasn't there—probably floated off somewhere. The core was in the corner, breathing quietly.
He walked to the entrance and put on his shoes. His gaze drifted to the shoe cabinet.
那雙羅馬涼鞋，幻足撐著的。花換了新的。晨光。
而在鞋的旁邊——不知道什麼時候多了一樣東西。那條十字架項鍊。
銀色的，細細的，被修好的。放在一塊白色的手帕上。
沒有被藏起來。沒有被扔掉。就放在那裡。在鞋的旁邊。在花的旁邊。
不是敬拜。不是悼念。只是——放在那裡。承認它在。承認它發生過。承認那道裂痕存在過。
然後讓它待著。
The Roman sandals, propped up by phantom feet. The flowers had been replaced with fresh ones. Morning light.
And beside the shoes—at some point, something had appeared. That cross necklace.
Silver, thin, repaired. Placed on a white handkerchief.
Not hidden. Not thrown away. Just placed there. Beside the shoes. Beside the flowers.
Not worship. Not mourning. Just—placed there. Acknowledging it exists. Acknowledging it happened. Acknowledging that the crack existed.
Then letting it stay.
他看著那條項鍊。然後彎下腰，繫好鞋帶。
門打開。外面的光照進來。
他走出去。在門口停了一步。沒有回頭。
身後，核心的光一明，一暗。帶著海的節奏。石腿靠在牆邊，腳上是舒適的小白鞋。鞋櫃上，那雙涼鞋安靜地待著，杖頭和劍柄在晨光裡微微發亮。
十字架閃了一下。很輕。很短。
He looked at the necklace. Then bent down and tied his shoelaces.
The door opened. Light from outside came in.
He walked out. Paused for a step at the doorway. Didn't look back.
Behind him, the core's light brightened, dimmed. With the rhythm of the sea. The stone legs leaned against the wall, in comfortable white sneakers. On the shoe cabinet, the sandals rested quietly, the staff-head and sword-hilt gleaming faintly in the morning light.
The cross glinted. Very lightly. Very briefly.
晨光照著屋裡每一個碎裂過、又被安安穩穩放好的東西。
什麼都碎過了。什麼都在。
Morning light shone on every broken thing in the room, every thing that had been broken and then safely set down.
Everything had been broken. Everything was still here.
