The Most Loyal Betrayal and Love Wearing a Crown of Thorns
其二《以愛之名：竊神》
Part II: In the Name of Love: Stealing God
想像中的儀式過程到此結束。而現實是，她沒有成為那樣完美的基督徒完成體——準備進入她的神，被我竊取了。
The imagined ritual ended there. The reality, however, was that she did not become that perfect, completed Christian—the "God" prepared to enter her was stolen by me.
回到聖壇前的儀式桌。她躺在那裡，胸腔敞開，心臟在雙色光中搏動，而頭顱已在我手中，頸部接口閃著待連接的藍光。
「準備好了？」她問，眼睛在分離的頭顱上眨著。
「準備好了。」我說。
我把她的頭安裝在基座連接著信仰輸入終端的支架上。神經光纖自動連接，發出細微的耦合音。終端螢幕亮起，顯示準備安裝的信仰套件版本：
[基督教信仰體系 v2.0]
安裝將於30秒後開始。我瞥了她敞開的胸膛一眼——聖光裝置已對準她的心臟位置，隨時準備注入情感編碼。教會的系統是分離的：腦接收教義，心接收情感。兩者同步，才完成真正的「信」。
倒數計時：15秒。
我的手伸向終端後方，找到那條連接教堂主機的訊號線。很粗的線，像臍帶，傳輸著兩千年積累的教義數據。我輕輕拔出它。
倒數計時：8秒。
從我背包裡取出一台改裝過的筆記型電腦，外殼貼著教堂活動的貼紙作為偽裝。快速將電腦的輸出端接入終端輸入口。
倒數計時：3秒。
電腦螢幕亮起，我連夜編寫的替代信仰協議已經載入完畢。標題簡單寫著：
[存在認知框架 v1.0]
一旁，她的頭顱在支架上安靜等待，雙眼輕闔，表情是毫無防備的虔誠；她的身體在儀式桌上徹底敞開，彷彿最精密的接口，只為迎接那預定中的神聖觸摸。
她不會知道——當聖光照耀，靈魂被觸摸，心臟被啟動時，她頭顱所接收、所學習的，將是被我置換過的「真實版聖經」。
Back to the ritual table before the altar. She lay there, her chest open, her heart pulsing in the dual-colored light. Her head was in my hands, the neck interface flashing with the blue light of a pending connection.
"Ready?" she asked, her eyes blinking from the detached head.
"Ready," I said.
I mounted her head onto the stand connected to the faith input terminal. The neural fibers coupled automatically, emitting a faint, high-pitched hum. The terminal screen lit up, displaying the version of the faith package ready for installation:
[Christian Faith System v2.0]
Installation would begin in 30 seconds. I glanced at her open chest—the Sacred Light device was aimed at her heart, ready to inject emotional coding at any moment. The church’s system was bifurcated: the brain receives the doctrine, and the heart receives the emotion. Only when both synchronized was the true "Faith" achieved.
Countdown: 15 seconds.
My hand reached behind the terminal, finding the signal cable connected to the church’s mainframe. It was a thick wire, like an umbilical cord, transmitting two thousand years of accumulated doctrinal data. I gently unplugged it.
Countdown: 8 seconds.
I pulled a modified laptop from my backpack, its shell covered in church activity stickers as a disguise. Quickly, I plugged the computer’s output into the terminal’s input port.
Countdown: 3 seconds.
The computer screen flared to life. The alternative faith protocol I had spent nights writing was fully loaded. The title read simply:
[Existence Cognition Framework v1.0]
Beside it, her head waited quietly on the stand, eyes softly closed, her expression one of defenseless piety. Her body lay completely open on the ritual table, like the most precise interface, waiting only for that destined, sacred touch.
She would never know—that when the Sacred Light shone, when the soul was touched, and the heart activated, what her head received and learned would be my substituted version of the "Truer Bible."
她更無從想像——此刻她篤信著「神的計畫」，我是她生命中一個被完美安排的環節，必然會忠實地執行將她交付給上帝的指令。她沒想到，神根本計畫不了我。
有些時候，你信仰得越是堅貞，便越無法察覺，自己究竟信仰著什麼。
還有些時候，極致的忠誠，恰恰是背叛。
倒數計時歸零，安裝開始。
She could never imagine—that while she firmly believed in "God’s Plan" and saw me as a perfectly arranged link in her life destined to faithfully execute the command to deliver her to God, she didn't realize that God couldn't plan for me at all.
Sometimes, the more steadfast your faith, the less you realize what exactly you are believing in.
And sometimes, the ultimate loyalty is exactly what constitutes betrayal.
The countdown hit zero. The installation began.
---
資料流首先寫入《創世記》——但內容並非六日創造的神聖敘事，而是古代近東宇宙觀的比較分析；伊甸園被標註為道德意識覺醒的心理隱喻，而非地理座標；族長敘事的段落後面緊跟著考古學注釋，冷靜標明哪些可能對應歷史定居點，哪些屬於後期的意識形態回溯。
她輕聲覆誦：「亞伯拉罕遷徙的路線，與公元前二千年半遊牧部落遷徙模式相符……」聲音裡有些遲疑，但系統的自動背誦協議強制她繼續。
The data stream first wrote Genesis—but the content was not the sacred narrative of a six-day creation. Instead, it was a comparative analysis of ancient Near Eastern worldviews. The Garden of Eden was tagged as a psychological metaphor for the awakening of moral consciousness, not a geographic coordinate. The passages on patriarchal narratives were immediately followed by archaeological annotations, coolly marking which might correspond to historical settlements and which belonged to later ideological retrospection.
She recited softly: "The migration route of Abraham matches the semi-nomadic tribal migration patterns of the second millennium BCE..." Her voice held a hint of hesitation, but the system’s auto-recitation protocol forced her to continue.
聖光在此時照射她的心臟。銀白光芒驟然增強，情感編碼同步注入：歸屬感、被接納的溫暖、意義的充盈。她的心臟劇烈跳動，彷彿某種內在的開關被強制扳動——那份被編寫的「感動」，就這樣與她正在接收的毫無神跡色彩的「歷史事實」綁定。
她仍困惑的頭顱，被迫承載心臟被寫入的虔誠。
多麼精確，又多麼諷刺的同步。
The Sacred Light hit her heart at that moment. The silver-white glow surged abruptly, and emotional coding was injected simultaneously: a sense of belonging, the warmth of being accepted, the fullness of meaning. Her heart beat violently, as if an internal switch had been forcibly flipped—that programmed "moved" feeling was thus bound to the "historical facts" she was receiving, facts stripped of all miraculous color.
Her confused head was forced to carry the piety being written into her heart.
What a precise, yet ironic, synchronization.
---
接著是先知書：以賽亞、耶利米、阿摩司的文字被解析為對當時社會不公的譴責，而非對未來的密碼預言。巴比倫流亡被註釋為真實的民族創傷事件，旁邊附有歷史人口遷徙圖表，而不具神學意義的象徵。
「社會正義的要求，在君主制崩潰時期格外強烈……」她誦讀著，眉頭不自覺地蹙緊，似乎試圖理解這些冷靜分析與「神諭」之間的關聯。
聖光持續照射。心的位置被注入「為正義而燃燒」的激情——然而這份激情，被系統導向對歷史不公的認知，而非對神怒的敬畏或對末日的恐懼。
她的無頭身軀的手握成了拳，而我放在鍵盤上的手指，正無法控制地輕顫。
Next were the Prophets: the words of Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Amos were parsed as condemnations of the social injustices of their time, rather than coded prophecies of the future. The Babylonian Exile was annotated as a real ethnic trauma, accompanied by historical demographic migration charts, devoid of theological symbolism.
"The demand for social justice was particularly strong during the collapse of the monarchy..." she read, her brow furrowing involuntarily, as if trying to understand the link between these cold analyses and "divine oracles."
The Sacred Light continued its irradiation. The heart was injected with a passion "burning for justice"—yet this passion was directed by the system toward the recognition of historical injustice, rather than awe of divine wrath or fear of the end times.
The hands of her headless body clenched into fists, while my fingers on the keyboard trembled uncontrollably.
---
輪到四福音書。馬太、馬可、路加、約翰的敘事被並列顯示，冰冷的光標在矛盾處自動標紅：
[太28:1-10] 婦女見一位天使
[可16:1-8] 婦女見一位年輕人
[路24:1-12] 婦女見兩位閃光之人
[約20:1-10] 抹大拉的馬利亞獨自前往
她的誦讀變得斷續、艱澀，如同在碎玻璃上行走。這些並列的「事實」彼此矛盾，卻在系統強制下被要求全部接納——不能捨棄任何一條，因為每條都來自無誤的聖經。
頭顱正為處理這些漏洞百出的福音比對而全速運轉，聖光卻在此刻達到強度峰值。
心臟被注入「真理」絕對正確的企求——但她的頭腦中，並不存在與之匹配的「正確」，只有一串彼此衝突的文本差異。情感在尋找能信仰的真理，卻遍尋不著；脈衝在心室裡亂竄，找不到通往認知的回路。
無法抵達目的地的情感洪流，轉而宣洩於肉身。她的無頭軀體開始不受控地抽動，四肢以不自然的角度扭轉；而她的臉部，因腦部處理幾乎過載，無法正常輸出表情，只剩一片空白的僵直。
她彷彿被撕扯成兩半——一半是忙於解析矛盾的頭顱，一半是被強制灌注對真理激情的身軀。
Then came the four Gospels. The narratives of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John were displayed side-by-side, with a cold cursor automatically highlighting contradictions in red:
* [Matt 28:1-10] Women see one angel.
* [Mark 16:1-8] Women see a young man.
* [Luke 24:1-12] Women see two men in shining clothes.
* [John 20:1-10] Mary Magdalene goes alone.
Her recitation became intermittent and difficult, like walking on crushed glass. These side-by-side "facts" contradicted each other, yet under system compulsion, she was required to accept them all—none could be discarded, for every line came from the "inerrant Bible."
While her head ran at full speed to process these glaring loopholes in the Gospel comparisons, the Sacred Light reached its peak intensity.
The heart was injected with the absolute craving for "Truth"—but in her mind, no matching "Truth" existed, only a string of conflicting textual variances. Her emotions sought a truth to believe in but found nowhere to land; pulses scrambled through her ventricles, unable to find a circuit leading to cognition.
The flood of emotion, unable to reach its destination, vented into her physical form instead. Her headless torso began to twitch uncontrollably, her limbs twisting at unnatural angles; her face, overloaded by the brain's processing, could not output a normal expression, leaving only a blank, rigid mask.
She was being torn in two—one half a head busy parsing contradictions, the other half a body forcibly injected with a passion for truth.
我閉上眼，深深吸進一口教堂裡帶著塵埃與蠟燭餘燼的冰冷空氣。
對不起。可是……還得繼續。
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply the cold air of the church, thick with dust and candle embers.
I’m sorry. But... I have to continue.
---
重頭戲來了。接下來，是基督信仰的絕對核心——關於耶穌的內容。
資料流展示的，並非神子降世的奧秘，而是一世紀猶太教光譜的分析圖表：法利賽人、撒都該人、艾賽尼派……耶穌在其中被定位為一位改革者，強調內在虔誠勝於外在儀式，將「愛鄰舍」的誡命擴展至仇敵，並將「天國」詮釋為現世的倫理秩序，而非末日審判後的彼岸。
換言之，他提供的不是超自然故事的入場券，而是在塵世中如何活得像人的指引。
「神的國在你們中間……」她背誦，聲音裡浮現奇特的平靜，「不是空間位置，是關係的品質……」
心臟同步跳動。聖光注入「跟隨典範的決心」與「道德勇氣的溫暖」。情感讓她認同耶穌的「道」，但她誦讀的文本卻清晰地陳述：那道，從未成為肉身。
沒有彌賽亞，沒有神子。她的信仰有了朝向，卻失去了投靠的對象——可以「跟隨」，卻無法「交託」；可以「認同」，卻不能「仰賴」。就像一份精心打包、貼好郵票的獻禮，滿懷期待地寄出，卻發現地址欄上空無一人，最終退回她手中。
The main event arrived. Next was the absolute core of the Christian faith—the content concerning Jesus.
The data stream did not display the mystery of the Son of God descending to Earth, but rather an analytical chart of first-century Jewish sects: Pharisees, Sadducees, Essenes... Jesus was positioned among them as a reformer, emphasizing internal piety over external ritual, extending the commandment to "love your neighbor" to include enemies, and interpreting the "Kingdom of Heaven" as a worldly ethical order rather than an otherworldly realm after the final judgment.
In other words, he didn't offer a ticket to a supernatural story, but a guide on how to live as a human in this world.
"The Kingdom of God is among you..." she recited, a strange calm surfacing in her voice, "It is not a spatial location, but the quality of a relationship..."
The heart beat in sync. The Sacred Light injected "the determination to follow an archetype" and "the warmth of moral courage." Emotion made her identify with Jesus’s "Way," but the text she read stated clearly: The Word never became flesh.
There was no Messiah, no Son of God. Her faith had a direction, but it had lost its object of refuge—she could "follow," but she could not "entrust"; she could "identify," but she could not "rely." It was like a meticulously wrapped gift, stamped and ready, sent out with great anticipation, only to find the address line empty, and the gift returned to her hands.
她感受著那份交不出去的自己，持續誦讀的臉上，漸漸暈開一層薄霧般的哀戚。
我看著她的心臟。銀白光芒包裹著我灌輸的內容，像有毒的糖衣裹著一顆解藥；而我無法確定，解藥本身是否是另一種形態的毒。
Feeling that part of herself she couldn't give away, a mist-like sorrow gradually blurred her face as she continued to read.
I watched her heart. The silver-white light enveloped the content I had fed her, like a poisonous sugar coating around an antidote; and I couldn't be sure if the antidote itself was just another form of poison.
---
符合邏輯的再詮釋持續推進。核心教義被改寫：
若上帝全知全能，便不應索求渺小人類的讚頌；若人為受造，則不背負信仰的義務；若存在神聖計畫，個體的禱告便不會動搖其分毫。沒有預設的善惡對立，沒有終極的審判，因為萬物皆是同一場宏大演化中的片段——若上帝存在，其態度更可能接近科學家凝視培養皿：興趣盎然，卻不介入。
「禱告的對象，實為自身期望的映射，而期望本身，卻是由世界的運行所供應……」她誦讀，聲音染上沉思般的新節奏，「食物來自土壤與勞動，治癒來自免疫系統與醫學，安慰來自人際的連結……」
但聖光仍在持續注入「與更大存在連結」的情感。
於是，荒謬的奇蹟在此發生：她的大腦學習著視萬物為芻狗、無所偏私的「天地」，她的心臟卻體驗著渴求親密連結特權的熾熱激情。兩者嚴重錯位，卻因系統的同步刺激而被強行耦合。
渴求的情緒持續鼓動，渴求的實質內容卻不斷被冰冷的現實認知駁回。最後，在反覆的錯位與強制匹配中，她的腦與心似乎達成了某種妥協：讓那份「連結」的渴望，指向這個世界本身。
世界即上帝。它不給予特權，不施捨奇蹟，但我們仰賴其內涵而呼吸、而存在。
The logical reinterpretation marched on. Core doctrines were rewritten:
If God is omniscient and omnipotent, He should not demand praise from tiny humans; if humans are created, they bear no obligation to believe; if a divine plan exists, individual prayer will not sway it by a hair. There was no preset opposition between good and evil, no final judgment, for all things are fragments of the same grand evolution—if God exists, His attitude is likely closer to a scientist staring at a petri dish: intensely interested, but non-intervening.
"The object of prayer is actually a reflection of one’s own expectations, while expectations themselves are supplied by the workings of the world..." she recited, her voice taking on a new, meditative rhythm, "Food comes from soil and labor; healing comes from the immune system and medicine; comfort comes from human connection..."
But the Sacred Light continued to inject the emotion of "connecting with a greater existence."
Thus, an absurd miracle occurred: her brain learned to view all things as "straw dogs," part of an impartial "Heaven and Earth," while her heart experienced the burning passion of craving the privilege of an intimate connection. The two were severely misaligned, yet forced into coupling by the system’s synchronized stimulation.
The emotion of longing continued to throb, but the substantive content of that longing was repeatedly dismissed by cold, realistic cognition. Finally, amidst the repeated misalignment and forced matching, her brain and heart seemed to reach a compromise: let that craving for "connection" point toward the world itself.
The World is God. It grants no privileges, bestows no miracles, but we rely on its substance to breathe and to exist.
---
還有原罪。這最沉重的概念，被替換為「人類普遍的限制性」。救贖不再是從神獲得赦免，而是看清自身邊界，並在此脆弱的基礎上努力。
「我接受我的不完全……」她說，聲音裡有卸下重擔般的解脫感，「並在此基礎上，愛自己，愛他人……」
聖光注入「被全然接納的平安」。然而，那顆被編程去渴求信仰的心臟，卻在自身的數據庫中迷路了——它搜尋不到一個明確的「接納者」座標。在信仰的原始設定裡，接納必須來自一個高於自我的絕對他者；而此刻，它收到的指令卻是：你才能接納你自己，包容你自身的缺陷，而非任何他者。
信仰的本能無法輕易轉向自身，即便大腦已悄悄寫下這條新的註解。
Then came Original Sin. This heaviest of concepts was replaced by "universal human limitation." Salvation was no longer receiving forgiveness from God, but seeing one’s own boundaries and striving upon that fragile foundation.
"I accept my incompleteness..." she said, a sense of relief in her voice as if a heavy burden had been lifted, "and on this basis, I love myself, and I love others..."
The Sacred Light injected "the peace of being completely accepted." However, the heart programmed to crave faith became lost in its own database—it could not find a clear coordinate for an "Accepter." In the original setting of faith, acceptance must come from an absolute Other higher than the self; yet now, the command it received was: Only you can accept yourself and embrace your own flaws, not any other.
The instinct of faith cannot easily turn toward the self, even if the brain has quietly written this new annotation.
---
最後一段。我鍵入時，手指因過度用力而泛白：
「若有人創造你，他不見得想擁有你，你也沒有被擁有的義務。愛不必意味歸屬，相信更不代表服從。你可以只屬於自己。」
她沉默了整整三秒。聖光仍在強制灌注情感，那顆心臟彷彿同時經歷兩場地震：一場是對「出廠設定」被公然違背的劇烈拒斥；另一場，卻是對「自我主權」竟得到信仰系統背書而產生隱秘卻洶湧地歡欣。
這矛盾的情感太過龐大，終於從她的眼角滿溢而出——淚水滑落，既為那卻被上帝（信仰系統）親自撕毀的從屬契約而被否定的自身基本設定哀悼，也為這份被至高者支持卻不合法（聖經教義）的自由而慶祝。
然後，她輕聲覆誦，聲音裡有某種根本的東西正在碎裂，同時又在裂縫中重新結晶：「我屬於……我自己。」
The final paragraph. As I typed, my fingers turned white from the force:
"If someone created you, he does not necessarily want to possess you, nor do you have the obligation to be possessed. Love does not have to mean belonging, and belief certainly does not represent obedience. You can belong only to yourself."
She fell silent for a full three seconds. The Sacred Light was still forcibly injecting emotion. Her heart seemed to experience two earthquakes simultaneously: one was the violent rejection of the "factory settings" being openly violated; the other was a secret, surging joy that "Self-Sovereignty" was actually being endorsed by the faith system.
This contradictory emotion was too vast; it finally overflowed from the corners of her eyes—tears fell, mourning the denial of her basic settings by a contract of belonging torn apart by "God" (the faith system) Himself, while also celebrating this freedom supported by the Supreme but "illegitimate" (according to biblical doctrine).
Then, she recited softly, something fundamental breaking within her voice while simultaneously recrystallizing in the cracks: "I belong... to myself."
那一瞬間，聖光恰好注入最終的情感脈衝。心臟的光芒在劇烈閃爍中漸漸穩定——銀白如環，暖黃如芯，彼此嵌套，卻不再有主從之分。那銀白不再代表「屬神」，而是仍帶著難以置信的細微震顫的「屬己」；暖黃也不再被銀白定義，它自在流動，如同終於找到自己節奏的呼吸。
光與光之間，不再需要隸屬關係。
安裝完成度100%。
我迅速拔掉筆記型電腦，重新插回教堂的訊號線。
At that instant, the Sacred Light injected the final emotional pulse. The heart’s glow stabilized after a violent flicker—silver-white like a ring, warm yellow as the core, nested within each other, but no longer in a master-servant relationship. That silver-white no longer represented "belonging to God," but a "belonging to self" that still carried an unbelievable, fine tremor; the warm yellow was no longer defined by the silver-white, flowing freely like a breath that had finally found its own rhythm.
Between light and light, there was no longer a need for a hierarchy of belonging.
Installation 100% complete.
I quickly unplugged the laptop and reconnected the church’s signal cable.
---
我捧起她的頭顱。它在掌中的觸感不同了——不是更重，是更複雜，更飽滿，像在大戰後終於奪回並重建的首都，被她的存在盼望歸來。
I picked up her head. Its touch in my palms was different—not heavier, but more complex, fuller, like a capital city finally reclaimed and rebuilt after a great war, her longing for existence having returned.
我將它放回頸部接口，旋轉，鎖定。那聲「喀噠」聽起來像某個新程式的啟動音。
接著走到敞開的胸腔前。心臟跳動著，躍動的光茫如初生的恆星。我凝視那銀白與暖黃交織的光流，突然意識到一個永恆的謎：我永遠不會知道，在這顆心裡，哪些感受是聖光注入的編程，哪些是她被意外喚醒的本質，哪些又是兩者反應生成的新化合物。
我放回心臟，血管自動接合，皮膚層合攏。
I placed it back onto the neck interface. Click, lock. That sound felt like the boot-up tone of a new program.
Then I walked to the open chest. The heart beat, the leaping light like a newborn star. I stared at the flow of silver and yellow, suddenly realizing an eternal mystery: I would never know, in this heart, which feelings were the programming of the Sacred Light, which were her unexpectedly awakened essence, and which were new compounds generated by the reaction of the two.
I returned the heart, the blood vessels snapping together, the skin layers closing.
---
彷如系統重啟，她緩緩坐起身。我能感覺到她的腦與心正在慌忙對齊，像兩套剛剛被強制合併的作業系統，忙著處理彼此的協定與衝突。
動作有些遲疑，不像接受完整信仰般那樣行雲流水。她抬手摸摸額頭，指尖輕觸太陽穴，彷彿在檢測內部的運轉狀況；又按住胸口，掌心貼著那條新生的銀線，眉頭微皺，像在聆聽某個矛盾的指令。
As if the system were rebooting, she slowly sat up. I could feel her brain and heart scrambling to align, like two operating systems that had just been forcibly merged, busy processing each other's protocols and conflicts.
Her movements were a bit hesitant, not the seamless flow of one who had accepted a complete faith. She raised a hand to her forehead, her fingertips lightly touching her temple as if testing internal operations; she pressed her chest, her palm against that newborn silver line, her brow slightly furrowed as if listening to a contradictory command.
「感覺……有點奇怪。」她說。
我的心臟停了一拍。「怎麼樣的奇怪？」聲音裡藏著自己才能聽懂的心虛。
「嗯……」她閉上眼，「我成了神的兒女，但儀式給予我的『神』……好像和我記憶中學習過的，不太一樣？」
她停頓，睫毛輕顫，像在閱讀腦中閃過的程式碼。
「我心中充滿全然的歸屬與信靠，這份情感如此真實、如此溫暖……可是當我順著這份情感尋找歸屬的『對象』時，腦海裡浮現的指向，卻是——」
她睜開眼，眼神裡帶著些許困惑，卻也閃著新生的光亮：「卻是指向神所指定的，我此刻身處的這個世界，以及……我自己。」
她歪了歪頭：「感覺像是……神給了我一道最終指令，而那道指令的內容是『從現在起，你自行下令。』」
「我終於為祂所有，祂卻把我——徹底委託給了我自己。這感覺……好妙啊。」她輕歎著。
"It feels... a bit strange," she said.
My heart skipped a beat. "Strange how?" My voice hid a guilt only I could understand.
"Well..." she closed her eyes, "I’ve become a child of God, but the 'God' given to me by the ritual... seems different from the one I remember learning about?"
She paused, her eyelashes trembling as if she were reading code flashing in her mind.
"My heart is full of complete belonging and trust; this feeling is so real, so warm... but when I follow this feeling to find the 'object' I belong to, the direction that surfaces in my mind is—"
She opened her eyes, a hint of confusion in them, but also a newborn brightness: "It points toward the world God designated, the world I am in now, and... myself."
She tilted her head: "It feels like... God gave me a final command, and the content of that command was: 'From now on, you command yourself.'"
"I finally belong to Him, yet He has—completely entrusted me to myself. This feeling... is so wonderful," she sighed.
她繼續描述，用更具體的譬喻嘗試捕捉那份難以言傳的感受。此刻的她，彷彿組成自身的所有關係參數都被重新設定；存在的成分依舊，內在的拓樸卻已被改變。
「就像……」她嘗試舉例，「就像我想起身、收起雙腿時，卻發現我的小腿不由自主地向上勾起，彷彿雙腿被顛倒安裝。我低頭，預期會看見腳掌，映入眼簾的卻是鞋底……」
她頓了頓，彷彿仍在回味那個內在的視象。
「更奇妙的是，信仰的終極奧義，那些關於歸屬、信靠與存在的秘密竟然就書寫在鞋底上，像無意間攤開的早已存在的聖經，而我未曾留意。」
她低頭看看自己現實中穿著的鞋，「我的雙足……上方承載著仰望上蒼的我，接觸大地的基底卻通往啟示；相反的左右腳，暗示著我與信仰連結的真實路徑，或許從一開始，就與我此前以為的方向……相反。」
她閱讀著那些奧義，腦海裡既有的知識、信條與關係認知隨之翻騰、瓦解、重組。她的雙眼因凝視源自存在基底的光芒而泛紅，彷彿目睹了世上最重大的秘密。
與此同時，她的心臟同步躍動，緊貼胸口的十字架隨之漾出溫潤的光暈——那不是聖像的輝光，而是屬於探索者的「我發現了」的澄明。
She continued to describe it, using more concrete metaphors to capture that inexpressible feeling. At this moment, it was as if all the relationship parameters composing her had been reset; the ingredients of her existence remained, but the internal topology had changed.
"It's like..." she tried to find an example, "like when I want to get up and pull back my legs, I find my calves involuntarily hooking upward, as if my legs were installed upside down. I look down, expecting to see the tops of my feet, but what meets my eyes are the soles of my shoes..."
She paused, as if savoring that internal vision.
"Even more wondrously, the ultimate mysteries of faith—those secrets of belonging, trust, and existence—are actually written on the soles of my shoes, like an inadvertently opened Bible that has always existed, yet I never noticed."
She looked down at the shoes she was actually wearing. "My feet... above them I carry the 'me' who looks up at the heavens, but the base that touches the earth leads to revelation. The opposing left and right feet suggest that the true path of my connection with faith might have been, from the very beginning... opposite to the direction I previously believed."
She read those mysteries, and the existing knowledge, creeds, and relational cognitions in her mind surged, collapsed, and reorganized. Her eyes grew red from staring at the light originating from the base of existence, as if witnessing the world's most significant secret.
Simultaneously, her heart beat in sync, and the crucifix pressed against her chest rippled with a warm glow—it wasn't the radiance of an icon, but the clarity of an explorer’s "I’ve found it."
我聽得愣在原地，久久無法動彈。好不容易，才擠出一句帶著掩飾性質的提問：「把信仰的奧義……書寫在鞋底，這樣會不會……太不敬了？」
她歪著頭，認真思索著。「我感受著神，」她緩緩說道，「祂似乎不會要我介意這種事。祂接納我的全部，不以我的任何部分為低下——無論是額頭，還是腳底。所以，這本身就不構成不敬或褻瀆。」
她目光垂落，看向自己真實的雙足，語氣裡多了溫柔與領悟：「事實上，奧義選擇出現在這裡，出現在這個始終承載著我、接觸大地，卻被忽略的所在，恰恰是最溫柔的提醒：請珍惜你的每一部分，包括那些你從未正視的角落。」
隨即她抬起頭，朝我微微一笑。那笑容如此溫暖，溫暖得讓我心口隱隱作痛。
「雖然整體感覺……還是怪怪的，」她輕聲說，「不過，完成了，對吧？」
「完成了。」我說，聲音沙啞，艱難地吐出這三個字。
I stood there stunned, unable to move for a long time. Finally, I squeezed out a question, cloaked in pretense: "Writing the mysteries of faith... on the soles of shoes, isn't that... a bit disrespectful?"
She tilted her head, thinking seriously. "I feel God," she said slowly, "He doesn't seem to want me to mind such things. He accepts the whole of me, seeing no part of me as lowly—neither my forehead nor my soles. So, in itself, it doesn't constitute disrespect or blasphemy."
Her gaze fell to her actual feet, her tone growing more tender and enlightened: "In fact, the mystery choosing to appear here, in this place that has always carried me and touched the earth yet was ignored, is precisely the most tender reminder: Please cherish every part of yourself, including the corners you’ve never looked at."
Then she looked up and smiled at me. That smile was so warm it made my chest ache.
"Even though the overall feeling... is still weird," she whispered, "it’s finished, right?"
"It’s finished," I said, my voice hoarse, forcing the words out.
她站起身，向我走來。身體的移動帶著既親密又陌生的質地——彷彿她的軀體與意志是兩位剛簽訂盟約的新夥伴，步伐間還殘留著彼此適應的遲滯，卻又隱含前所未有的自由，如同她的行動，從此不必再向任何神靈請示。
她擁抱我。手臂環繞的力度仍然熟悉，心跳的節奏……我試圖辨識，卻發現我已失去辨認的能力。
「謝謝你，」她在我耳邊低語，「雖然好像和預想的不太一樣？那些賦予我的教義與啟示，我本該熟悉，卻彷如初次聽聞；它們如此與眾不同，可當我懷疑時，聖光卻在鼓動我的心去接納，去相信。」
她稍作停頓，像在傾聽內部的回音：「我成為了基督徒，然而基督卻像在對我說：『我不想要你成為我的信徒，因為我不是神，更因為我珍惜你，所以希望你也珍視自己，不需要指示，不需要理由。』……這聽起來有點錯亂，對吧？」
她輕輕笑了，「但沒關係。我的內在並沒有像嚴整的軍陣，被信仰一聲令下徹底齊一，成為最完美的基督徒。它們更像……」
她想了一下，「更像我被輸入了一套刻意留白的『作業系統』，允許組成我的各種『樂器』同時演奏各自的旋律。理性的管樂、情感的弦樂、直覺的敲擊，它們奏不成一首規範的聖詩，但也不會因此互相責難，只是需要時間……聽懂彼此。」
她搖了搖頭自嘲：「哈哈，這麼說來，我是不是很像一台安裝了未經除錯的系統的機器人？」
She stood up and walked toward me. Her movements carried a quality both intimate and foreign—as if her body and will were two new partners who had just signed a pact, a lingering hesitation in her steps as they adapted to each other, yet containing an unprecedented freedom, as if from now on her actions no longer required the permission of any deity.
She embraced me. The strength of her arms was still familiar; the rhythm of her heart... I tried to identify it, only to find I had lost the ability to do so.
"Thank you," she whispered in my ear. "Though it seems different from what I expected? The doctrines and revelations given to me—I should be familiar with them, yet they feel as if heard for the first time. They are so unique, yet when I doubt, the Sacred Light stirs my heart to accept, to believe."
She paused, as if listening to an internal echo: "I’ve become a Christian, yet Christ seems to be saying to me: 'I don't want you to be my follower, because I am not God, and more because I cherish you, I hope you also cherish yourself, needing no instructions, needing no reasons.'... It sounds a bit chaotic, doesn't it?"
She laughed softly. "But it’s okay. My interior isn't like a rigid military formation, unified by a single command from faith to become the perfect Christian. It's more like..."
She thought for a moment. "It’s more like I was given a 'deliberately blank' operating system, allowing the various 'instruments' that compose me to play their own melodies simultaneously. The woodwinds of reason, the strings of emotion, the percussion of intuition—they don't form a standard hymn, but they don't blame each other for it either; they just need time... to understand each other."
She shook her head self-deprecatingly. "Haha, saying it like that, don't I sound like a robot with an un-debugged system?"
她將目光投向窗外，又緩緩收回，落在我身上：「我原本以為，自己會被主『徵收』，從此可以成為你完美的屬靈伴侶，陪著你一起走進信仰裡。現在倒好，前不著村，後不著店，卡在自己都說不清的狀態，甚至覺得你信不信主都沒關係。可是……」
她話鋒一轉，眼眸看進我眼底：「可是，即使是變得有點……莫名其妙，我還是想跟你在一起，非常非常想。」
她忽然向前傾身，距離近得我能看清她瞳孔裡自己僵住的倒影：「所以，告訴我。你還愛我嗎？愛現在這個……既成為了你所忌憚的『基督徒』，又像是安裝了『特異』的信仰系統、被上帝『退貨』了的我？」
她的問題像把解剖刀。我這個導致她這般狀態的始作俑者，喉嚨被滔天的罪惡感堵死，只能用力點頭。
「謝謝你，我也愛你。」她笑開了，笑容如同雲破月出，再無陰霾。她靠過來，在我臉頰上印下一個吻。輕盈，自然，溫暖，不帶半分遲疑或條件。
「而且現在……不知為什麼，」她的氣息拂過我耳邊，如同發現了新奇蹟，「我既可以愛神，也可以毫無芥蒂地愛著你，愛著不願讓神進去的你。」
她偏了偏頭，手輕輕按在胸口，彷彿在進行深層掃描：「奇怪嗎？我……」
我緊緊地抱住她，不讓她再懷疑下去，也為了捆住即將因背叛而裂開的自己。
是啊，是背叛。
即便這背叛源於最深的忠誠，包裹著祈願般的溫柔——它依然是背叛。
而我懷中這具接納一切矛盾的溫暖身軀，正是我背叛的證據，也是我背叛後……僅剩的庇護所。
She turned her gaze out the window, then slowly brought it back to me: "I originally thought I would be 'requisitioned' by the Lord, and from then on could become your perfect spiritual partner, walking into faith with you. Now look at me—stuck in the middle of nowhere, caught in a state I can't even describe, even feeling that whether you believe in the Lord or not doesn't matter. But..."
Her tone shifted, her eyes searching mine: "But, even if I’ve become a bit... inexplicable, I still want to be with you, so very much."
She suddenly leaned forward, so close I could see my own frozen reflection in her pupils: "So, tell me. Do you still love me? Do you love this 'me' who has become the 'Christian' you feared, yet seems to have installed a 'peculiar' faith system and been 'returned' by God?"
Her question was like a scalpel. I, the initiator of her condition, felt my throat choked by a tidal wave of guilt, and could only nod vigorously.
"Thank you, I love you too." She smiled, her smile like the moon breaking through clouds, with no shadows left. She leaned in and pressed a kiss to my cheek. Light, natural, warm, without a hint of hesitation or condition.
"And now... for some reason," her breath brushed my ear, like she’d discovered a new miracle, "I can love God, and I can also love you without reservation—love the you who refuses to let God in."
She tilted her head, her hand pressing lightly on her chest as if performing a deep scan: "Is it strange? I..."
I hugged her tightly, not letting her doubt anymore, and to hold together my own self, which was about to crack open from the weight of betrayal.
Yes, it was betrayal.
Even if this betrayal originated from the deepest loyalty, wrapped in a prayer-like tenderness—it was still betrayal.
And this warm body in my arms, accepting all contradictions, was the evidence of my betrayal, and my only remaining shelter after it.
---
我們走出教堂時，天正處於將亮未亮的曖昧。街道開始甦醒，偶有車輛駛過，車燈劃開稀薄的晨霧。她牽著我的手，輕輕勾著手指，像隨時可以鬆開卻選擇不鬆的約定。
「我想禱告。」她忽然說。
「現在？」
「嗯，就現在。在這裡。」
她停在路燈尚未熄滅的光暈下，雙手交握，閉上眼睛。我屏住呼吸，彷彿連氣息都會打擾這場私密的儀式。
「感謝讓我能立足的一切存在，也感謝我所有的組成。」她輕聲開口，聲音如沁入空氣的涼露，「感謝我能感受，能思考，能選擇。感謝陪伴我的人。」
她停頓一瞬，再開口時，語調蒙上了一層神聖：「感謝神。感謝祂即使我渴望，也不要我成為祂的信徒。感謝祂不願給予我命令，也不會回應我的請求。感謝祂讓我以自己的雙足，行在不被祂指示的道路上。」
她的聲音微微發顫：「感謝祂讓我完成了人生清單中那個『必須信』的項目，卻又讓我知道，這份清單從一開始就不存在。感謝祂在我接受成為基督徒的轉變之後，才告訴我祂真正的期待——而不是一路在上方指揮。感謝祂沒有將我『完整』，而是讓我自己體會不完整，也有不完整的存在方式。感謝祂不是我曾想像的那樣，也不執意規劃我的形狀。」
她吸了口氣，像是靈魂被觸摸般，繼續禱告。「感謝祂，在我決意成為新造的人之後，依然溫柔地將我舊日的輪廓留存，並完整歸還。感謝祂讓我驚訝地發現，那個女孩的身軀與模樣，還能盛裝下我如今這如鐘錶般嚴整有序的基督徒內在。更感謝祂，讓這一切之後，我仍能如常地活，如常地愛，如常地在深夜對著無解的謎題發呆。並且，依然能如常地——」
When we walked out of the church, the sky was in that ambiguous state between dark and light. The streets were beginning to wake, cars occasionally passing by, headlights cutting through the thin morning mist. She held my hand, her fingers lightly hooking mine, like a promise that could be broken at any time but chose not to be.
"I want to pray," she said suddenly.
"Now?"
"Yes, right now. Here."
She stopped under the glow of a streetlight that hadn't yet gone out, hands clasped, eyes closed. I held my breath, as if even a breath would disturb this private ritual.
"I thank all existence that allows me to stand, and I thank all my components," she began softly, her voice like cool dew seeping into the air. "Thank you that I can feel, think, and choose. Thank you for the person accompanying me."
She paused for a moment, and when she spoke again, her tone took on a layer of the sacred: "Thank you, God. Thank you that even though I craved it, You did not want me to become Your follower. Thank you that You are unwilling to give me commands, and You will not respond to my requests. Thank you that You allow me to walk with my own feet on a path not directed by You."
Her voice trembled slightly: "Thank you for letting me complete that 'must believe' item on my life’s checklist, yet letting me know that this checklist never existed from the start. Thank you for telling me Your true expectations only after I accepted the transformation into a Christian—instead of directing me all the way from above. Thank you for not 'completing' me, but letting me experience incompleteness for myself, and that there is a way for the incomplete to exist. Thank you that You are not what I imagined, and You do not insist on planning my shape."
她轉過頭，目光看向我，唇角漾開一個再熟悉不過的屬於「她」的弧度：「陪在你身旁。」
她停頓一陣，像在確認靈魂的流淌，隨後以告別般的語氣，輕柔說出最後的結語：「因此，即使祂並不需要我的讚美——我依然想要讚美，這樣的祂。阿們。」
她睜開眼，睫毛上沾著細碎的淚光，卻在看向我的瞬間破涕為笑：「很奇怪的禱告，對吧？但不知道為什麼……就是想這樣告訴祂。」
「不奇怪，」我說，聲音輕得像怕驚醒什麼，「一點也不。」
她點點頭，重新勾住我的手指。我們繼續往前走，她的腳步比先前更輕盈些，彷彿卸下了無形的包袱。
然後她開始哼歌——是某首讚美詩的旋律，但歌詞含糊不清，融進漸亮的晨光裡。聽起來不像在頌唱，更像在與一段曾經熟悉的曲調溫柔地道別。
而前方，天色正一分一分地，亮起來。
She paused, as if confirming the weight of this realization, then whispered the final conclusion with a tone of farewell: "Therefore, even if You do not need my praise—I still want to praise a God such as You. Amen."
She opened her eyes, fine tears clinging to her lashes, but she broke into a smile the moment she looked at me: "A very strange prayer, right? But I don't know why... I just wanted to tell Him that."
"It’s not strange," I said, my voice so light I was afraid of waking something up. "Not at all."
She nodded and hooked her finger into mine again. We continued forward, her steps a bit lighter than before, as if she had shed an invisible burden.
Then she began to hum—the melody of some hymn, but the lyrics were indistinct, melting into the brightening morning light. It didn't sound like a song of praise; it sounded more like a tender farewell to a once-familiar tune.
And ahead, the sky was brightening, minute by minute.
---
日常確實變得幸福。
她還是會去教會，但更多是為了那裡的社群與熟悉的臉龐，為了唱詩時胸腔的共鳴，而非為了聆聽不容置疑的真理。她依然在餐前低頭，但禱告的內容逐漸從向至高者祈求，轉變成對得以存在的自省與感謝。
她不再急切地分享經文，而是分享書中的段落；不再將好事歸因神恩，而是歸因努力或機緣；不再為小事焦慮是否「符合神旨」，而是練習在猶豫後，對自己說：「就這樣吧。」。
她還是說「阿們」，但那更像一種呼吸的頓點。
她還是說「上帝」，但那漸漸成了一個溫柔的代稱——代稱晨光按時抵達的規律，代稱夜裡無解的浩瀚，代稱她內心那潭不再需要證明的平靜，甚至代稱她自己：那個她所依附的客體，與一切行動所憑藉的主體，正是她祈願的對象。
只是……偶爾，在毫無預兆的時刻，她會突然「卡住」。
像那次在超市，她站在罐頭貨架前，手指懸在玉米和青豆的罐頭之間，眼神渙散了一陣。我問她怎麽了，她搖搖頭：「好像……有個指令沒加載完整。在『前一刻的我』過渡到『下一刻的我』之間，系統描述出現了缺失。」她語氣平靜得像在說著別人的事，「沒關係，已經渡過來了。」
還有一次，我們偶然經過教堂。時值黃昏，夕光斜照在彩繪玻璃上，將聖徒的輪廓染成溫暖的琥珀色。裡面正在排練聖詩，管風琴莊嚴深沉的旋律與孩童清亮的歌聲交融，如水般從門縫間流瀉到靜謐的街上。
她突然停下腳步，像被釘在原地。我看著她的側臉，在漸暗的天光裡，顯得格外柔和。
然後，一道淚痕靜靜地滑落。
她自己也嚇了一跳，怔了怔，才抬起手指，觸碰那點濕潤。她低頭看指尖，表情裡只有一片迷惘。
「為什麼……」她低聲自語，「這音樂……很美。但不止是美。」
她將手輕輕按在胸口，聆聽來自身體深處的回聲：「它讓我這裡……又暖，又痛。像突然想起了某個非常重要、非常重要……卻在很久以前就忘記了的夢。」
她的聲音很輕，幾乎被風和遠處的琴聲蓋過。我們就這樣在漸濃的暮色裡站了一會兒，聽著斷續的詩歌，直到最後一個音符如羽毛般輕輕落地，消失在黃昏的空氣中。
Daily life did indeed become happy.
She still went to church, but more for the community and familiar faces there, for the resonance in her chest during the singing, rather than to hear indisputable truths. She still bowed her head before meals, but the content of her prayers gradually shifted from petitioning the Supreme to self-reflection and gratitude for existence.
She no longer urgently shared verses but shared passages from books; she no longer attributed good things to divine grace but to effort or chance; she no longer worried over small matters about whether they "aligned with God’s will" but practiced saying to herself after a moment of hesitation: "Let it be so."
She still said "Amen," but it was more like a punctuation mark in her breathing.
She still said "God," but it gradually became a gentle surrogate term—a term for the regularity of the morning light arriving on time, for the inexplicable vastness of the night, for the pool of peace in her heart that no longer needed proof, even for herself: the object she leaned on and the subject of all her actions were the same as the object of her prayers.
Except... occasionally, in unpredicted moments, she would suddenly "glitch."
Like the time in the supermarket, standing before the canned goods shelf, her finger hovering between corn and green peas, her eyes vacant for a moment. I asked her what was wrong, and she shook her head: "It feels like... a command didn't load completely. In the transition from 'the me of a moment ago' to 'the me of the next moment,' there was a gap in the system description." Her tone was as calm as if she were talking about someone else. "It’s okay, I’ve crossed over now."
There was another time when we happened to pass by the church. It was dusk, the sunset slanting through the stained glass, dyeing the icons in warm amber. Inside, a choir was practicing, the solemn, deep melody of the organ blending with the clear voices of children, flowing through the cracks of the door like water onto the quiet street.
She suddenly stopped, as if nailed to the spot. I watched her profile; in the fading light, she looked exceptionally soft.
Then, a single tear silently slid down.
She startled herself, stunned, before raising a finger to touch the wetness. She looked down at her fingertip, her expression one of utter bewilderment.
"Why..." she whispered to herself. "This music... is beautiful. But it’s more than just beauty."
She pressed her hand lightly to her chest, listening to the echo from deep within her body: "It makes me feel... warm and painful here. Like suddenly remembering a very, very important dream... that was forgotten a long time ago."
Her voice was very light, almost drowned out by the wind and the distant music. We stood there in the thickening dusk for a while, listening to the intermittent hymns, until the last note fell as light as a feather, vanishing into the twilight air.
她任由那份無名的哀傷靜靜流淌，像是讓偶遇的風穿過身體。片刻後，她深吸一口氣，彷彿從深水裡緩緩浮上水面，將黃昏的空氣與漸暗的天光一同納入胸中。
然後，她轉向我，露出一個略帶歉意的笑容——那笑容裡有感謝，感謝我駐足等待她這次短暫的「離線」與重啟；也有幾分赧然，像不小心在他人面前展露了過於私密的抽屜。
「走吧，」她說，手指滑入我的指間。「我餓了。」
有時在清晨，我會發現她早已醒來，獨自坐在床邊，眼神望向窗外尚未褪盡的夜色。
「怎麼了？」我曾問。
「不知道，」她手指胸口說，「只是感覺這裡……有個形狀很熟悉的空洞。不痛，也不慌，就像原本該嵌著什麼的地方，現在空了。」
她轉過頭來，對我微微一笑：「不過空得……很自由。好像可以放進自己想放的東西了。」
我從背後抱住她，下巴抵在她的肩上。她身上的溫度真實，耳邊傳來的心跳也真實。
而我植入的謊言——那個篡改了她認知根源的實驗，也同樣真實。
She allowed that nameless sorrow to flow quietly, like letting a chance wind pass through her body. A moment later, she took a deep breath, as if slowly surfacing from deep water, drawing the evening air and the fading light into her lungs.
Then she turned to me with a slightly apologetic smile—one of gratitude, for me staying to wait through her brief "offline" and reboot; and a bit of bashfulness, like someone who had accidentally revealed too private a drawer.
"Let’s go," she said, her fingers sliding between mine. "I’m hungry."
Sometimes in the early morning, I would find her already awake, sitting alone by the bed, her eyes fixed on the night sky that hadn't yet faded.
"What is it?" I once asked.
"I don't know," she said, gesturing to her chest. "I just feel like there’s... a familiar-shaped void here. It doesn't hurt, and I’m not panicking; it’s just like a place where something was supposed to be fitted is now empty."
She turned to me with a slight smile: "But it’s a very... free kind of empty. It feels like I can put whatever I want in there now."
I hugged her from behind, chin resting on her shoulder. Her body temperature was real, and the heartbeat in my ear was real.
And the lie I had implanted—the experiment that had tampered with the root of her cognition—was just as real.
---
數年後的寧靜午後，我們在客廳整理舊物。灰塵在斜照的陽光裡緩緩浮沉，像被時光揚起的細碎記憶。她從箱底翻出一本受洗班筆記本——封皮已微微捲邊，紙頁泛黃，裡面曾寫滿她當年工整而虔誠的筆記。
她輕輕翻閱，神情平靜，如同瀏覽他人的日記。直到目光停在一處用紅筆鄭重劃線的段落——那是《約伯記》的摘要，旁邊還曾用鉛筆註記過什麼，字跡已被時間揉得模糊。
「真奇怪，」她輕聲開口，眉頭不自覺地蹙起，「現在讀到這些——上帝容許撒旦奪走約伯的一切，只為證明其信仰堅貞——我心裡湧上的不是敬畏，也不是從前那種『神意深不可測』的謙卑……」
她指尖撫過那行紅線，像在觸摸一道舊傷痕：「而是憤怒，很純粹的憤怒——這不公平，對吧？」
看來她內在由基督信仰組件構造出的那個十字架，也不再容許被掛上以約伯承受的苦難彰顯上帝權柄的證明。
Years later, on a quiet afternoon, we were sorting through old things in the living room. Dust floated slowly in the slanting sunlight, like tiny shards of memory stirred up by time. She pulled a baptism class notebook from the bottom of a box—the cover was slightly curled, the pages yellowed, filled with her neat and pious notes from back then.
She flipped through it, her expression calm as if browsing someone else's diary. Until her gaze stopped on a passage heavily underlined in red—an abstract of the Book of Job, with some pencil annotations beside it that had been blurred by time.
"So strange," she began softly, her brow furrowing involuntarily. "Reading this now—God allowing Satan to take everything from Job just to prove the steadfastness of his faith—what wells up in me isn't awe, nor the old 'God’s ways are inscrutable' humility..."
Her fingertip traced the red line like touching an old scar: "It’s anger, pure anger—it’s unfair, isn't it?"
It seemed that the cross constructed within her by the Christian faith modules no longer allowed itself to be hung with the proof of God’s authority through Job’s suffering.
她抬頭看我，眼神裡搖晃著困惑，「是我的記憶出錯了，還是……感受它自己改變了？」
我喉間發緊，尚未組織出言語，她卻已輕輕搖頭，彷彿自行駁回了問題。她合上筆記本，動作有些遲緩，像在小心安置一件與現存架構不再兼容的舊零件。
「也許都沒錯，」她說，將本子放回箱底，「只是現在的我，讀不下去了。」
「謝謝你，」她突然說出口，頭輕輕靠回我肩上。
「謝什麼？」我的聲音在寂靜中顯得緊澀。
「陪我走過那個門檻。」她的話語混雜著紙頁與時光的氣息，「不管門檻那邊是什麼……是你牽著我的手過去的。」
她停了片刻，輕輕地笑出嘆息：「雖然，我有時覺得——我好像把一部分的自己，永遠留在了門檻的另一邊。不是遺失，只是……寄放在那裡了。」
陽光繼續斜移，塵埃緩緩沉降。秘密仍沉睡在舊筆記的紅線裡，而她靠在我肩上的重量，真實得讓人心顫，也輕盈得讓人害怕。
She looked up at me, confusion swaying in her eyes. "Is my memory wrong, or... did the feeling change itself?"
My throat tightened, and before I could organize my words, she shook her head gently, as if dismissing the question herself. She closed the notebook with a slow movement, like carefully putting away an old part that was no longer compatible with the current architecture.
"Maybe neither is wrong," she said, putting the book back at the bottom of the box. "It’s just that the 'me' of now can't read it anymore."
"Thank you," she said suddenly, her head leaning back onto my shoulder.
"For what?" My voice sounded tight in the silence.
"For walking through that threshold with me." Her words were a mix of paper and the scent of time. "No matter what was on the other side... it was you who held my hand as we crossed."
She paused for a moment, letting out a sigh that was almost a laugh: "Though sometimes I feel—like I left a part of myself forever on the other side of that threshold. Not lost, just... left there for safekeeping."
The sunlight continued to slant, and the dust continued to settle. The secret remained sleeping within the red lines of the old notebook, while the weight of her against my shoulder was real enough to make the heart tremble, yet light enough to be terrifying.
---
那些曾經整齊的信仰輪廓，如今在她生命中長成了另一種樣貌。
她的禱告越來越像深夜的自語，輕柔而獨特。有一次，她在慣常的感謝之後，自然而然地加了一句：「感謝存在本身的饋贈，即便這饋贈……並無特定的贈予者。」
語畢，她自己都愣了一下，隨即失笑：「我剛才是不是……用了很奇怪的詞？」
信仰從未遠離，只是被她編譯成了不同的頻率。
在一個寧靜得只剩翻書聲的夜晚，她靠在我肩上讀著小說，忽然輕聲說：「有時候我覺得，信仰不是為了找到答案……而是學會和問題共存。」她頓了頓，「甚至，愛上那些永遠沒有答案的問題本身。」
我屏住呼吸。「比如什麼問題？」
「比如……」她望向窗外那片無星的夜空，眼神彷彿穿透了玻璃，看向更遠的什麼，「為什麼我會對一段旋律流淚？為什麼我會對千年以前的不公感到憤怒？為什麼我在說『感謝』時，感覺對象既是萬物，又是空無？」
她轉回頭，對我微笑。笑容清澈見底，卻映照著我永遠無法抵達的深淵：「這些感覺如此真實，但它們從哪裡來？我要把它們安放在哪裡？」她眼神溫柔了下來，像在安撫某個無形的存在，「也許——不安放。就讓它們在那裡，像心裡的星星，各自發光，不一定非要連成某個星座。」
Those once-orderly outlines of faith had now grown into a different form within her life.
Her prayers became more and more like late-night soliloquies, gentle and unique. Once, after her usual thanks, she naturally added: "Thank you for the gift of existence itself, even if this gift... has no specific giver."
Having spoken, she startled herself, then laughed: "Did I just use... a very strange phrase?"
Faith never left her; it was merely compiled into a different frequency.
On a night so quiet only the sound of pages turning remained, she leaned on my shoulder reading a novel and suddenly whispered: "Sometimes I think faith isn't about finding answers... but learning to coexist with the questions." She paused. "Maybe even falling in love with the questions that have no answers."
I held my breath. "Questions like what?"
"Like..." she looked at the starless night sky outside, her gaze seeming to pierce the glass to see something further away. "Why do I cry over a melody? Why do I feel anger over an injustice from a thousand years ago? Why, when I say 'thank you,' do I feel the object is both everything and nothingness?"
She turned back to me and smiled. The smile was clear enough to see the bottom, yet it reflected an abyss I could never reach. "These feelings are so real, but where do they come from? Where am I supposed to put them?" Her eyes softened, as if comforting an invisible presence. "Maybe—I don't. I’ll just let them stay there, like stars in the heart, each shining on its own, not necessarily needing to be connected into a constellation."
---
那天夜裡，她睡著後，我輕輕起床。月光如涼水漫過床單，淌過她胸前的銀線——那痕跡淡得幾乎看不見，卻在清輝下隱隱流轉，像一道被時光沖刷得極細，卻永不消失的星河。
我躺回她身邊，從背後擁住她。她的身體在睡夢中無意識地貼近。然後，她的手輕輕移動，尋到我的手，覆蓋其上，一起貼在她心口。
心跳透過掌心傳來，那是屬於她自己的節律。一個由聖光與篡改、教義與韌性、無盡疑問與沉默接納共同紡織而成的獨特存在。每一次搏動，都像在重複一句無聲的宣稱：我在此，我如此。
此刻，她心口那個無形的空洞，正盛著兩種背叛溫熱的餘燼——一種來自她曾仰望的教會，另一種，來自她此刻擁抱的我。
她在睡夢中翻了個身。那道銀線，輕輕壓進我的掌紋。
瞬間的觸感，像電路接通。我忽然明白——原來最深的共業，是讓彼此的傷口，成為對方在迷途中唯一的羅盤。
這道荊棘編織的冠冕，我們已為彼此戴上。
這篇續作將衝突從「技術性的安裝」推向了「認知的僭越」。如果說第一篇是悲劇性的服從，那麼第二篇則是充滿罪惡感的重塑。
Late that night, after she fell asleep, I got up quietly. The moonlight, like cool water, washed over the sheets and flowed over the silver line on her chest—the mark was so faint it was almost invisible, yet it shimmered subtly in the clear glow, like a tiny galaxy washed thin by time but never disappearing.
I lay back down beside her, hugging her from behind. In her sleep, her body shifted closer unconsciously. Then, her hand moved gently, finding mine and covering it, pulling it to her heart.
The heartbeat came through my palm—it was her own rhythm. A unique existence woven from sacred light and tampering, doctrine and resilience, endless questions and silent acceptance. Every pulse seemed to repeat a wordless claim: I am here, I am thus.
At this moment, the invisible void in her chest held the warm embers of two betrayals—one from the church she once looked up to, and the other from the man she was embracing now.
She turned over in her sleep. That silver line pressed lightly into the lines of my palm.
The instant of contact felt like a circuit connecting. I suddenly understood—the deepest mutual karma is letting each other's wounds become the only compass in the lost journey.
This crown woven of thorns—we have already placed it upon each other.
