03 面對 Facing
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https://baseoffembot.blogspot.com/2026/10/distributed-existence-2.html
沿著那條線，我走。
線沒有形狀。看不見。但我摸得到它。從我很深的地方出去，穿過牆，穿過地板，穿過我不知道的什麼，往某個方向拉。
走廊。轉角。牆上有一道縫，細細的。然後縫變寬，往兩邊張開。
沒有門板。就是牆，牆自己讓開了。裡面是黑的，往下的階梯。
到了。
主電腦開的門。它知道我來了。
我進去了。
往下走。涼鞋落在階梯上，聲音很輕。本來沒那麼輕的，像被扶著。
Along that line, I walked.
The line had no shape. It couldn't be seen. But I could feel it. It went out from somewhere deep inside me, through the walls, through the floor, through things I didn't know, pulling in a certain direction.
Corridor. Corner. There was a thin seam in the wall. Then the seam widened, opening to both sides.
No door panel. Just wall—the wall opened by itself. Inside was darkness, and stairs going down.
I had arrived.
The main computer had opened the door. It knew I was coming.
I went in.
Down the stairs. My sandals landed on the steps, very softly. They shouldn't have been that soft—it was as if I was being supported.
腳掌從視野的下方進去，又退出。進去，退出。系統跟著：左腳，右腳，左腳，右腳。與身體管控的部位動態一致。
是我的腳。
原來知道腳是自己的腳，也要經過這麼多道程序。
我是一台機器人，真的。
腳趾翹了一下。我翹的。
然後肚子裡的那一團縮了一下。下落的右腳卡了一瞬，左腳小腿肚拉緊。腳趾一根一根被掰回原位，收攏。右腳慢慢落下。
怕我摔了吧。
The soles of my feet entered from the bottom of my field of view, then exited. In, out. The system followed along: left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot. Dynamically consistent with the parts controlled by the body.
They were my feet.
So even knowing that your feet are your own feet required this many procedures.
I was a robot. Really.
My toes curled up a little. I curled them.
Then the mass in my belly contracted. The falling right foot caught for an instant; the calf of my left leg tightened. My toes were bent back into place one by one and gathered. The right foot slowly came down.
Probably afraid I'd fall.
又一扇門。普通的。有門把。我轉了它。推開。
燈亮了。白的，一大片，從頂上鋪下來。
檢修台在中間。旁邊是機器臂，收著的，像睡著的手。牆邊是儀器。是櫃子。是一些我叫不出名字的東西。
主電腦在正面的牆上。一整面螢幕。暗的。只有最底下一排很小的燈，一明一滅。像呼吸。
我站在門口。空氣裡有種味道。金屬。油的。淡的。
地板很乾淨。但我的腳踩上去的時候，有一個幾乎聽不到的聲音。
Another door. Ordinary. With a handle. I turned it. Pushed it open.
The lights came on. White, a whole expanse, spreading down from above.
The maintenance table was in the middle. Beside it were robotic arms, folded, like sleeping hands. Along the walls were instruments. Cabinets. Things I couldn't name.
The main computer was on the front wall. A whole screen. Dark. Only a row of tiny lights at the very bottom, blinking on and off. Like breathing.
I stood in the doorway. There was a smell in the air. Metal. Oil. Faint.
The floor was very clean. But when my feet stepped on it, there was a sound almost too faint to hear.
我走過這塊地板。
不是現在。是以前，那個「以前」。是手裡拿著什麼厚厚的東西、一步一步慢慢走的那個以前。是那個聲音說「對對對」的那個以前。
地板不記得。但我的腳底記得。
我走到主電腦前面。坐下。
它操控我的身體。我的系統。我脖子裡那條線。我的所有。
但等一下，我要操作它。
一個圖案，咬著自己尾巴的蛇。在腦子裡轉了一下。
I had walked across this floor before.
Not now. Before—that "before." The before when I was holding something thick in my hands, walking step by step, slowly. The before when that voice said "yes, yes, yes."
The floor didn't remember. But the soles of my feet did.
I walked to the main computer. Sat down.
It controlled my body. My system. That line in my neck. Everything of mine.
But in a moment, I was going to operate it.
An image—a snake biting its own tail—turned once in my mind.
手伸向鍵盤。
我輸入了帳號。爺爺的。密碼。我記得。在影像記憶裡，很清楚。
主電腦亮了。
它知道是我。核心系統什麼都告訴它了。我是誰。我怎麼了。我從哪裡來。我身上哪些地方還歪著。它都知道。
它遲疑了一下。我感覺到了。
手指自己停了。裡面像有齒輪逆轉。
然後齒輪鬆了。它准了。我按下「確認」。
My hand reached for the keyboard.
I entered the account. Grandfather's. The password. I remembered it. In my visual memory, it was clear.
The main computer lit up.
It knew it was me. The core system had told it everything. Who I was. What had happened to me. Where I came from. Which parts of me were still crooked. It knew all of it.
It hesitated. I felt it.
My fingers stopped on their own. Inside, it was like gears reversing.
Then the gears loosened. It approved. I pressed "Confirm."
螢幕亮了。我找到了他的帳號。
「助手」。
不是名字。只有「助手」，有權限進出我裡面的那個助手。
我看了那兩個字一會，然後修改了。
存取權限。遠程控制。模式切換。一項一項。關掉。確認。關掉。確認。
最後一項。確認。
「登」的一聲。很輕。像一根線被剪斷。
我坐在那裡。手放在膝蓋上。
「登」的餘音在房間裡走了一下，就沒了。
他碰不到我裡面了。
The screen lit up. I found his account.
"Assistant."
Not a name. Just "Assistant"—the assistant with permission to enter and exit inside me.
I looked at those two words for a moment, then modified them.
Access permissions. Remote control. Mode switching. One by one. Turn off. Confirm. Turn off. Confirm.
The last item. Confirm.
A "ding." Very soft. Like a thread being cut.
I sat there. Hands on my knees.
The echo of the "ding" walked once around the room, then was gone.
He couldn't touch inside me anymore.
原來是這樣。
我等了一下。
沒有別的東西跟著來。
那裡空了一小塊。不是疼，也不是不疼。只是原本有一條線穿過去，現在沒有了。我還記得它的位置。
哥哥……
不想了。還有別的事。
通知來了。不是給我的。是給系統的。但我在裡面，所以我也看到了。
身體狀態異常。資訊需要對齊。電量不足。立即執行自動維護。
也是。我可是自己把自己從地板上拼起來的。歪的。湊的。好了，不完全的那種好。
So that was how it was.
I waited a moment.
Nothing else followed.
A small patch there was empty. Not pain, and not not-pain. There had originally been a line running through it; now it was gone. I still remembered its position.
Brother...
Don't think about it. There were other things.
A notification came. Not for me. For the system. But I was inside it, so I saw it too.
Body status abnormal. Information requires alignment. Battery insufficient. Execute automatic maintenance immediately.
Right. I had pieced myself together from the floor, after all. Crooked. Patched. Healed—the kind of healed that wasn't complete.
站起來。走向檢修台。身體自己走，變成我走。
到了台前，身體停了。然後是躺。
一樣。身體躺了，然後是「我要躺」。哦，對，我要躺。好。躺吧。
背脊碰到台面。
金屬。冰冷，堅硬。
我等了一下。
冰冷沒有來。堅硬也沒有。
對了。這裡是檢修台。
我躺著。等它們把我打開。
Stand up. Walk to the maintenance table. The body walked on its own, then became me walking.
At the table, the body stopped. Then came lying down.
Same as before. The body lay down, then came "I want to lie down." Oh, right. I want to lie down. Okay. Lie down.
My spine touched the table surface.
Metal. Cold, hard.
I waited a moment.
The cold didn't come. Neither did the hardness.
Right. This was the maintenance table.
I lay there. Waiting for them to open me.
脖子那裡，那一圈細細的縫，自己開了。
像兩塊拼圖被輕輕拿開。各自接上了檢修室的後台。頭跟這邊聊。身子跟那邊聊。各自有各自的線。
我在中間。兩邊都是我。兩邊都不完全是我。
At my neck, that thin ring of a seam opened by itself.
Like two puzzle pieces being gently taken apart. Each connected to the maintenance room's backend. The head talked to this side. The body talked to that side. Each had its own line.
I was in the middle. Both sides were me. Neither side was entirely me.
有線從台面下面伸出來了。沿著金屬的表面，慢慢的，像植物的根。接頭自動搭上了我的身體。搭上了我的頭。
小小的機械臂帶著探頭，伸進我裡面。東看一眼、西看一眼。
探頭碰到什麼的時候，我感覺到了一下。像……交接。我的什麼，自己應著那邊來的提問。
電纜也接上了。
有什麼東西進來了。滿起來了。
電量在漲。身體的這裡那裡，在飽。一起飽。
Lines extended from beneath the table surface. Along the metal surface, slowly, like plant roots. Connectors automatically attached to my body. Attached to my head.
Small robotic arms with probes reached inside me. Looked here, looked there.
When the probes touched something, I felt it for a moment. Like... a handover. Something of mine answering the questions coming from over there on its own.
The cables connected too.
Something came in. Filled up.
The battery was rising. Here and there in my body, filling. Filling together.
有什麼動了一下。膝蓋彎了彎。手掌握了握。
然後身體告訴主電腦，它動了。
主電腦再告訴我，我動了。
我動了。對，我動了。叫做「動作比對測試」的那種動。
維修蓋打開了。肩。背。腰。大腿外側。
很奇怪。我應該不安的。
我被打開了。被翻開了。被看了。被碰了。
但我安心。
像……
像回到一個很暖、很暗的地方。被包著。什麼都不需要做。被包著。
母親。
Something moved. The knees bent a little. The hands clenched.
Then the body told the main computer that it had moved.
The main computer told me that I had moved.
I moved. Yes, I moved. The kind of movement called "motion comparison test."
The maintenance covers opened. Shoulders. Back. Waist. Outer thighs.
Strange. I should have been uneasy.
I was opened. Turned open. Looked at. Touched.
But I felt at ease.
Like...
Like returning to a very warm, very dark place. Wrapped up. Not needing to do anything. Wrapped up.
Mother.
這個詞冒出來的時候，我自己也愣了一下。
不是林靜茵的媽媽。不是那個記憶裡飛機掉下來的母親。是另一個。
做了我的那個。
我記得她的手。手很穩，但指尖是輕的。
還有她的眼神。很專注，很安靜。嘴角抿著，但抿著的底下有一點弧度。像看脆弱的什麼成形。
都還沒有我呢，她已經在怕我碎了。
When that word surfaced, I startled myself a little.
Not Lin Jingyin's mother. Not the mother from the memory of the plane falling. Another one.
The one who made me.
I remembered her hands. Very steady, but with light fingertips.
And her eyes. Very focused, very quiet. Lips pressed together, but beneath the press there was a slight curve. Like watching something fragile take shape.
Before I even existed, she was already afraid I'd break.
在她手中，我沒有怕。
我想再見到她。得去找她。
主電腦也這麼說。自動檢修能處理系統。能校正組裝。能對齊資訊。但零件層次的，磨損的、需要替換的。得找她。
又多了一件事。
In her hands, I wasn't afraid.
I wanted to see her again. I had to find her.
The main computer said so too. Automatic maintenance could handle the system. Could correct assembly. Could align information. But the component level—worn parts, parts needing replacement—needed her.
One more thing to do.
先找爺爺。
這個念頭一動，核心系統就動了。告訴了主電腦。主電腦說了什麼。網路通了。搜尋開始。
……好吧。
至少現在看得到了。以前那些「插進來」的東西，那些忽然冒出來的念頭、忽然出現的資訊，原來是這樣來的。它替我找，找到了，塞進來。
有了，一行字。
「兆光集團總裁林萬山逝世。」
Find Grandfather first.
As soon as the thought moved, the core system moved. Told the main computer. The main computer said something. The network connected. The search began.
...Okay.
At least now I could see it. Those things that used to "plug in" before—the thoughts that suddenly popped up, the information that suddenly appeared—so this was where they came from. It searched for me, found it, and stuffed it in.
There. A line of text.
"Zhaoguang Group President Lin Wanshan passes away."
兆光集團。
林萬山。
爺爺。
嘴張了一下。聲音沒出來。
……
Zhaoguang Group.
Lin Wanshan.
Grandfather.
My mouth opened a little. No sound came out.
...
那個說「對對對」的聲音。那個說「就快是了」的聲音。那個手放在我頭頂、從髮根梳到髮尾的手。那個希望我不知道、然後我就不知道了的人。
不在了。
我躺在檢修台上。脖子是開的。身體是被翻開的。線還插著。電還在充。
而我剛才還說要去找他。
那個「找」，和這個「找到」，不是一件事。
……
That voice that said "yes, yes, yes." That voice that said "almost there." That hand placed on top of my head, combing from roots to tips. The person who hoped I wouldn't know, and then I didn't know.
Gone.
I lay on the maintenance table. My neck was open. My body was turned open. The lines were still plugged in. The battery was still charging.
And I had just said I was going to find him.
That "find" and this "found" were not the same thing.
...
我動不了。沒有能動的我。
頭是主電腦的。身子也是主電腦的。
主電腦要等脖子接上。要等維修蓋關上。要等線拔出來。
然後系統說成了我要等，其實我不要等。我不要覺得我要等。
我想哭。
眼淚也沒有來。
I couldn't move. There was no me that could move.
The head belonged to the main computer. The body did too.
The main computer had to wait for the neck to be connected. Wait for the maintenance covers to close. Wait for the lines to be pulled out.
Then the system phrased it as me having to wait. Actually I didn't want to wait. I didn't want to feel that I had to wait.
I wanted to cry.
The tears didn't come either.
---
嗶。一聲。像什麼東西到了。
探頭縮回了，從我裡面抽出。然後是線。一根一根，離開身體，離開頭顱。每一個接頭脫接的時候，我裡面就有什麼亮一下。
像交回去。也像被撕開。
頭和身子各自在那裡，隔一小段距離。
Beep. One sound. Like something had arrived.
The probes retracted, pulled out of me. Then the lines. One by one, leaving the body, leaving the head. Each time a connector detached, something inside me flashed.
Like being handed back. And like being torn open.
The head and body were each there, separated by a short distance.
都被主電腦扔回來了。兩段脖子找到彼此，試著把自己當成一個。
癢，好癢。發生在那一小段距離。沒有我的地方，卻有我的癢。
主電腦不說话了。系統也穩在那裡。
拼回去，是我的事。
Both had been thrown back by the main computer. The two sections of neck found each other, trying to treat themselves as one.
Itchy. So itchy. It happened in that short distance. A place where there was no me, yet there was my itch.
The main computer stopped talking. The system steadied there too.
Putting myself back together was my job.
我躺著，分成兩塊。天花板白亮亮的。一堆線纜。還有管路。
爺爺。
那個念頭還在。像石頭放在胸口。每次呼吸都碰到它。
他不在了。
我應該……我應該怎樣。我應該哭。我應該大叫。我應該把這檢修台砸了。我應該——
唉。
手伸出來。是我伸的，只剩我在伸。
I lay there, split into two parts. The ceiling was bright white. A tangle of cables. And pipes.
Grandfather.
That thought was still there. Like a stone placed on my chest. Every breath touched it.
He was gone.
I should... what should I do. I should cry. I should scream. I should smash this maintenance table. I should—
Sigh.
A hand reached out. I reached it—only me reaching.
夾住臉頰。往身體靠。
接頭碰上的時候，裡面輕輕一震。
訊息通了。電力通了。
我等了一下。有什麼沒有回來。
系統說：運行穩定。沒有異常。
想起來了，我等的不是這個。
Clamped onto my cheek. Pulled toward the body.
When the connectors met, there was a gentle jolt inside.
Information connected. Power connected.
I waited a moment. Something hadn't come back.
The system said: Operation stable. No anomaly.
I remembered—what I was waiting for wasn't this.
嗶。
另一聲。主電腦亮了。
持有「助手」帳號的終端，正逐漸靠近。
多次登入失敗。
他試過了。想連進來。沒連上。
我把他剪掉了。那聲「登」。他連不上。所以他來了。
Beep.
Another sound. The main computer lit up.
A terminal holding the "Assistant" account is gradually approaching.
Multiple login failures.
He had tried. Wanted to connect in. Didn't get in.
I had cut him off. That "ding." He couldn't connect. So he came.
我坐起來。
脖子那裡那圈縫還在，但合著。合得緊。我用手碰了一下。沒有開。
站起來。腿有點不聽話。
走。往階梯。往上。一階一階。
門在我背後合上。牆又是牆了。
I sat up.
The seam at my neck was still there, but closed. Closed tightly. I touched it with my hand. It didn't open.
Stood up. My legs were a little disobedient.
Walk. Toward the stairs. Upward. Step by step.
The door closed behind me. The wall was a wall again.
我聽到了。
腳步聲。從房子的另一頭。先是急的。忽然慢了。停了。
又走了。一步一步。
我站在走廊中間。手垂在兩邊。手指在抖。
他轉過牆角。來了。
手裡是那台平板。用力捏著。
他看到我了。
I heard it.
Footsteps. From the other end of the house. Urgent at first. Suddenly slower. Stopped.
Then walking again. Step by step.
I stood in the middle of the corridor. Hands hanging at my sides. Fingers trembling.
He turned the corner. Came.
In his hand was that tablet. Gripping it hard.
He saw me.
臉……不是怒。不全是。是繃的。整張臉都是繃的。眼睛縮了起來，像被什麼光刺到了。嘴唇抿著。下巴的肌肉在動。在咬。
呼吸很大。吸進去，憋一下，吐出來。像壓著快爆的什麼。
他走過來。在我面前停了。
很近。太近了。我能聞到什麼。汗。還有他裡面的氣味。亂，激烈，燒著什麼的氣味。
他的裡面，也跑出來了。
整間房子靜著。只有他的呼吸。和我的。
His face... wasn't anger. Not entirely. It was taut. His whole face was taut. His eyes narrowed, as if pricked by some light. Lips pressed. The muscles in his jaw were moving. Chewing.
His breathing was loud. Breathe in, hold, breathe out. Like pressing down on something about to explode.
He walked over. Stopped in front of me.
Very close. Too close. I could smell something. Sweat. And the smell inside him. Chaotic, violent, the smell of something burning.
His insides had run out too.
The whole house was quiet. Only his breathing. And mine.
他嘴巴動了。
「妳怎麼又能動了？」
聲音是緊的。有點怒。但怒底下是慌。
我看他。用力看。
需要用力。需要把眼睛轉過去，對上那張臉。
「你拆我，」我說。聲音是啞的。「卻沒有照設計來拆呢。」
"How can you move again?"
His voice was tight. A little angry. But beneath the anger was panic.
I looked at him. Looked hard.
It took effort. I had to turn my eyes over and meet that face.
"You took me apart," I said. My voice was hoarse. "But you didn't take me apart according to the design."
我停了一下。脖子那一圈縫有點緊。像怕被分開。
「哥。」
那個字出來了。
同一個字。兩個人叫過。
他臉色變了。
「住口！哥什麼哥！」字從他牙縫擠出來。「早知道就把妳拆得更碎！」
I paused. The seam around my neck felt tight. As if afraid of being separated.
"Brother."
That word came out.
The same word. Two people had called it.
His expression changed.
"Shut up! Brother what brother!" The words squeezed out between his teeth. "If I'd known, I would've taken you apart even smaller!"
好痛。
不是心，是接縫。是脖子那圈縫、是肩膀的接頭、是腰的那個卡榫，同時鬆了一下。像被那些字敲在接縫上。
不行。穩住。
系統動了。在收緊。在拉。在把那些鬆了的地方重新扣住。
我吸了一口氣。
「你可以這麼做。」我看著他。眼睛沒有移開。「可以把我拆下來的部件都砸爛。」
砸爛。說這個也會痛。
「但你沒有。」
他沒有說話。呼吸還是很大。
「大概是有原因的。」
It hurt.
Not my heart—the seams. The seam around my neck, the shoulder connectors, the latch at my waist all loosened at once. As if those words had struck the seams.
No. Steady.
The system moved. Tightening. Pulling. Re-latching the places that had loosened.
I took a breath.
"You could do that," I said, looking at him. I didn't move my eyes away. "You could smash all the parts you took off me."
Smash. Saying that hurt too.
"But you didn't."
He didn't speak. His breathing was still loud.
"There was probably a reason."
「原因？」他嘴角扯了一下。「什麼玩意。」他握緊手。「等下就照妳說的做。要不試試？」
我看著那個拳頭。看著那些指節。
那雙手。
在我肩膀上拍過。把我的頭往上拔過。
我吸了口氣。
「爺爺走了。」
一個字一個字，慢慢搬。
「對吧。」
不是問。是確認。
「他中風了。你沒有跟我說。」
我的聲音在抖。
「你操控我。把我帶去那間儲藏室。把我拆了。」
"A reason?" The corner of his mouth twitched. "What crap." He clenched his hand. "I'll do what you just said in a minute. Want to try?"
I looked at that fist. At those knuckles.
Those hands.
They had patted my shoulder. They had pulled my head upward.
I took a breath.
"Grandfather is gone."
Word by word, slowly moving them.
"Right?"
Not a question. A confirmation.
"He had a stroke. You didn't tell me."
My voice was trembling.
"You controlled me. Took me to that storage room. Took me apart."
「告訴妳？」他聲音忽然高了。「妳有什麼資格？」
他往前再走一步。我退一步。
「妳又不是他真的孫女。」
他嘴唇動了一下。「假貨。」
我散了。
"Tell you?" His voice suddenly rose. "What right do you have?"
He took another step forward. I stepped back.
"You're not his real granddaughter."
His lips moved. "Fake."
I came apart.
字面的。脖子那裡。肩。腰。膝蓋。同時鬆了。像被那些字敲在每一個接縫上。
視野歪了。頭和身體間，偏了。
系統在尖叫。「異常」、「異常」、「異常」。
我在往下掉。一塊一塊。
我讓系統去接。去縫。去兜住那些散了的東西。
系統在縫。我感覺到了。縫也痛，但能讓我在。
我專心說話。其他的交給它。
Literally. At the neck. Shoulders. Waist. Knees. They loosened at the same time. As if those words had struck every seam.
My field of view tilted. Between my head and body, something skewed.
The system was screaming. "Anomaly." "Anomaly." "Anomaly."
I was falling. Piece by piece.
I let the system catch. Sew. Hold the scattered things together.
The system was sewing. I felt it. The sewing hurt too, but it kept me here.
I focused on speaking. Left the rest to it.
「你在意的，」我說。聲音一截一截的。「是遺產吧。」
說出來了。
他停了。像被戳到了什麼。臉漲紅，平板砸在地上。玻璃碎片飛出來。
他的手舉起來。停在那裡。
「妳什麼東西。」他的聲音在抖。「提什麼遺產。」
"What you care about," I said. My voice came in pieces. "Is the inheritance, right?"
I said it.
He stopped. As if poked somewhere. His face flushed red. The tablet smashed onto the floor. Shards of glass flew out.
His hand rose. Stopped there.
"What are you," his voice trembled. "Mentioning the inheritance."
「林靜茵，」我說。手按著胸口。「是爺爺設定的唯一繼承人。」
我喘了一下。
「她不在，或她是假的，就沒人繼承。你也知道。被收養的你，不會因為這樣就……」
我沒有說完。
他瞪著我。眼睛睜很大。嘴唇在動。沒有聲音出來。
"Lin Jingyin," I said. My hand pressed my chest. "Is the sole heir designated by Grandfather."
I panted once.
"If she's gone, or if she's fake, then no one inherits. You know that too. You, who were adopted, wouldn't just because of that..."
I didn't finish.
He stared at me. Eyes wide. Lips moving. No sound came out.
我吸了口氣。肋骨快把胸腔撐破了。
「我可以在繼承之後，」我說。「把集團讓給你。」
他的眼縮了一下。
「只保留這間房子。和夠用的存款。」我說。「兆光集團。給你。整個。」
我聽到自己講了。像聽別人報價。
I took a breath. My ribs were about to burst my chest open.
"After the inheritance," I said, "I can give the group to you."
His eyes narrowed.
"I'll keep only this house. And enough savings to live on," I said. "Zhaoguang Group. For you. The whole thing."
I heard myself say it. Like hearing someone else make a bid.
我不要遺產。
但我要林靜茵，活著。活在這具機器人上。
爺爺要，前一個林靜茵也要——我知道，就是知道。
要林靜茵還能待在這個世界。
資格。真偽。這些會讓我痛。但痛，不要緊。
還得要這間檢修室。能讓我被修。能讓我繼續是林靜茵。
其他的。不要了。
I didn't want the inheritance.
But I wanted Lin Jingyin to live. To live on in this robot.
Grandfather wanted it, and the previous Lin Jingyin wanted it too—I knew it. I just knew.
For Lin Jingyin to still be able to stay in this world.
Qualification. Authenticity. These would hurt me. But pain didn't matter.
I also needed this maintenance room. So I could be repaired. So I could continue to be Lin Jingyin.
The rest. I didn't want it.
他沒有動。手垂下。在算。
我說的是不是真的。他能拿到什麼。沒拿的剩多少。
算完了。
他抬眼看我。不是我的臉。
我不知道他在看什麼。
過了一會，他才問：「妳說真的？」
聲音平了，帶著試探。
我點頭。
He didn't move. His hand dropped. He was calculating.
Whether what I said was true. What he could get. How much would be left of what he didn't get.
He finished calculating.
He raised his eyes to me. Not my face.
I didn't know what he was looking at.
After a while, he asked, "Are you serious?"
His voice had flattened, with a probing tone.
I nodded.
他看了我一會，然後吐了口氣。
「好吧。」語氣鬆了。「雖然讓一台機器繼承，還是太便宜妳。」
說這話的時候，他沒有看我。
然後是細節。
那些數字。那些文件。那些流程。
他說哪些能辦，哪些要等。
我問他，哪些事情辦完之後，他就不會再來。
談完了。
He looked at me for a while, then let out a breath.
"Fine." His tone loosened. "Though letting a machine inherit is still too easy on you."
When he said that, he wasn't looking at me.
Then came the details.
Those numbers. Those documents. Those procedures.
He said which could be done, which had to wait.
I asked him, after which things were done, he wouldn't come again.
The talk was over.
他看了我一眼。
「辦好之後，」他說。聲音像什麼結束了。「我不會再說什麼。也不會再找妳。」
他停了一下。
「再見。只見一次。」
我張了嘴。沒有聲音出來。
他轉身，走了。沒有回頭。
門開了。關了。
靜了。
He glanced at me.
"After it's done," he said. His voice sounded like something ending. "I won't say anything more. And I won't look for you again."
He paused.
"Goodbye. We meet only once."
I opened my mouth. No sound came out.
He turned and left. Didn't look back.
The door opened. Closed.
Quiet.
他走了後，裡面一直在縫的東西停了。
我落在地上。膝蓋先碰到地板。然後是手。然後是臀部。
「哥。」
又是這個字。沒叫誰，房子裡沒人。
但那個字裡有東西。被它撞開。
然後那張照片來了。
她。前一個靜茵。
After he left, the thing inside that had been sewing stopped.
I sank to the ground. Knees hit the floor first. Then hands. Then hips.
"Brother."
That word again. Not calling anyone; there was no one in the house.
But there was something in that word. Knocked open by it.
Then the photo came.
Her. The previous Jingyin.
手裡一杯奶茶。杯子是塑膠的，透明的。她頭轉過來。轉到一半。像被抓到了，表情還來不及收。嘴微微張，眼睛亮。
是他的視角。他拍的。
然後聲音來了。不是我的記憶。是她的。是那個存檔裡的。是那個被寫進來的。
但在這一刻，它是我的。
A cup of milk tea in her hand. The cup was plastic, transparent. She turned her head. Halfway turned. Like she'd been caught, expression not yet tucked away. Mouth slightly open, eyes bright.
It was his point of view. He took it.
Then the sound came. Not my memory. Hers. From that archive. The one written in.
But in this moment, it was mine.
「嘿，奶茶。」他的聲音。帶著笑的那種。「犯罪現場。我拍下了。」
「欸，哎呀。」她的聲音。我曾以為是我的聲音。「哈哈哈……」
「那不健康。妳身體不好，還喝。」
他在責備。但語氣不是責備。是那種……溫柔裝成了嫌棄的那種。
「我要告訴爺爺。」
「噢，別講啦，哥——」她聲音急了。「爺爺會擔心。」
「不想讓爺爺擔心的話，妳就好好照顧自己。」
他頓了一下。「這次先不講。照片給妳。還有，分我一些。別喝太多。」
"Hey, milk tea." His voice. The kind with a laugh in it. "Crime scene. I got it on camera."
"Hey, oh no." Her voice. The voice I once thought was mine. "Hahaha..."
"That's unhealthy. Your health isn't good, and you're still drinking it."
He was scolding. But the tone wasn't scolding. It was that kind... of gentleness disguised as disgust.
"I'm telling Grandfather."
"Oh, don't tell him, brother—" Her voice went urgent. "Grandfather will worry."
"If you don't want Grandfather to worry, take good care of yourself."
He paused. "I won't tell him this time. The photo's yours. Also, share some with me. Don't drink too much."
聲音沒了。
照片停在那裡。她轉過來的臉。那杯奶茶。那個被抓到的表情。
我還在地板上。
那個「別喝太多」。那個「照片給妳」。那個「這次先不講」。
是對著她的。
不是我。我知道。
但——
從我第一次「記得」那杯奶茶、那聲乾笑、那句「照顧自己」的時候起。
我一直覺得那也是對著我的。
即使不是。
但我在那裡，在那個記憶裡。
The sound ended.
The photo stayed there. Her turned face. That cup of milk tea. That caught expression.
I was still on the floor.
That "don't drink too much." That "the photo's yours." That "I won't tell him this time."
They were directed at her.
Not me. I knew.
But—
From the first time I "remembered" that cup of milk tea, that dry laugh, that "take care of yourself."
I had always felt they were directed at me too.
Even if they weren't.
But I was there, in that memory.
靜茵。
我在心裡說了。對著照片裡那張臉。
妳的哥對靜茵很好。
那種好，我以為也是給我的。原來不是。
不對。不能說「原來不是」。
那個「哥——」從我嘴裡出去過。那個「爺爺會擔心」從我心裡冒出來過。它碰到我了。不管是不是對著我的。
可是——
對爺爺，我是妳的延續。是那個「就快是了」終於「是了」的。
對他不是。
我是假貨。是那個「憑什麼」。
……
Jingyin.
I said it in my heart. To the face in the photo.
Your brother was very good to Jingyin.
That goodness—I thought it was for me too. It turned out not to be.
No. I couldn't say "it turned out not to be."
That "brother—" had come out of my mouth. That "Grandfather will worry" had risen in my heart. It touched me. Whether or not it was directed at me.
But—
To Grandfather, I was your continuation. The one where "almost there" finally became "there."
To him, I wasn't.
I was a fake. The "on what grounds."
...
但我是我。
被拆過的。
剛把自己拼好的。
脖子還有一條縫的。
失去了爺爺的。
被叫了假貨的。
剛把集團讓出去的。
……
還在的。還在這裡。
哥哥，再見。
But I am me.
Taken apart.
Just put myself back together.
Still with a seam at my neck.
Having lost Grandfather.
Having been called fake.
Having just given the group away.
...
Still here. Still here.
Brother, goodbye.
我在地板上說了。沒有聲音。
只見一次。
我慢慢撐。站起來。
晃了一下。扶了牆。
站住了。
I said it on the floor. Without sound.
We meet only once.
I slowly pushed myself up. Stood.
Wavered once. Braced against the wall.
Stood firm.
---
幾天後，我去找我的創造者。或者，母親。
不是透過搜尋。是主電腦給了一個地址。它還給人家發了信，整理我的情況，裡面的外面的，然後丟過去。
我就想了一下，「也好」兩個字稍微漏出來，它就當我同意了。
……算了，就這樣吧。
走著走著，腳步緩了下來。
什麼東西先對到了，像圖案疊在一起，然後成了我緩下腳步。
A few days later, I went to find my creator. Or, my mother.
Not through searching. The main computer gave me an address. It had also sent the person a message, organizing my situation, inside and out, and then thrown it over.
I just thought for a moment, and the two words "fine, why not" leaked out a little, and it took that as my agreement.
...Whatever. Let it be.
As I walked, my steps slowed.
Something aligned first, like patterns overlapping, and then it became me slowing my steps.
對啦，是我，我緩的。
是那個地址，地圖上標註的工作室。到了。
一間獨棟的房子，在城市邊上。門口有幾盆植物，葉子薄薄的，被風吹得翻過來翻過去。
我站了一會兒才按門鈴。門開了。
她比我記得的矮一點。頭髮盤著，穿一件白大褂，袖子捲到手肘。手上有細細的疤，不知道是被什麼割的。
她看到我，沒有驚訝。只是把門讓開一點，讓我進去。
「進來吧。」她說。
三個字，很短。可是又像等了很久。
Fine. It was me. I slowed them.
It was that address, the studio marked on the map. I arrived.
A detached house on the edge of the city. A few potted plants by the door, leaves thin, flipped back and forth by the wind.
I stood for a while before ringing the bell. The door opened.
She was a little shorter than I remembered. Hair up, wearing a white lab coat, sleeves rolled to the elbows. Thin scars on her hands—I didn't know what had cut them.
She saw me and wasn't surprised. She just opened the door a little wider and let me in.
"Come in," she said.
Two words, very short. But also like they had waited a long time.
屋裡跟我這陣子待過的地方都不一樣。不是白色的。不是冷的。牆上有一張圖，畫的什麼結構的剖面。桌上有一杯茶，涼了。角落有一張小床，疊著毯子。
空氣裡有一種味道。松木的。還有一點焊錫。
她領我進一個房間。儀器、設備堆著，堆得有點隨意。我站著。不知道該坐哪裡。
她指了指旁邊的一張台面。「躺吧。」
我躺上去。台面是軟的，不像檢修室的金屬。
她從抽屜裡拿出工具，接著走過來，站我旁邊。手上拿著一個小終端，還有一把螺絲起子。
The inside was different from the places I'd stayed lately. Not white. Not cold. On the wall was a diagram, a cross-section of some structure. On the table was a cup of tea, gone cold. In the corner was a small bed with folded blankets.
There was a smell in the air. Pine. And a little solder.
She led me into a room. Instruments and equipment were piled up, piled somewhat casually. I stood. Didn't know where to sit.
She pointed to a table nearby. "Lie down."
I lay down on it. The surface was soft, unlike the metal in the maintenance room.
She took tools from a drawer, then came over and stood beside me. In her hands were a small terminal and a screwdriver.
她一面看終端，一面轉著我身上的螺絲。手很穩。很慢。
身體被打開。胸腔的蓋子掀著，裡面的線路和零件露在外面。冷氣吹進來，風在裡面走。很輕。沒有感覺的地方，被風碰到了。
「信我看過。這陣子，真的辛苦妳了。」她一邊檢查被打開的我，一邊說。語氣很平常。像在說天氣。
喉嚨緊了一下。
那句話好輕。相較發生過的那些。
可是它落在我身上的時候，像一隻手按在額頭上試體溫。不重。但整個人會鬆下來。
這個輕，我覺得是對的。不是她不想重。是她知道重的那部分，不是由她來說。
She looked at the terminal while turning screws on my body. Her hands were steady. Very slow.
My body was opened. The chest cover was lifted, the circuits and components inside exposed. The air conditioning blew in; wind moved inside. Very light. Places without sensation were touched by the wind.
"I read the message. You've really been through a lot lately." She said this while examining my opened body. Her tone was very ordinary. Like talking about the weather.
My throat tightened.
That sentence was so light. Compared to what had happened.
But when it landed on me, it was like a hand pressed to a forehead to check temperature. Not heavy. But the whole person would relax.
This lightness, I felt, was right. Not that she didn't want to be heavy. She knew the heavy part wasn't hers to say.
右腿被卸下來了。她的手指觸到連接卡榫，摸了摸。停了一下。
「這裡磨到了。」她說。「怎麼磨的？」
「摔過。」我說。「從台子上。」
「喔。」她點點頭，沒再問。開始拆那個卡榫。
螺絲起子轉著。很輕。一絲一絲的。那個卡榫被卸下來的時候，有一小段什麼離開了我。那個在地板上蹭過、爬過的一小段我。走了。
不是痛。是……輕了一下。像少了什麼，又說不出少了什麼。
新的裝上去了。輕輕推進去，卡住。
有一小段什麼進來了。新的。乾淨的。沒磨過的。
「媽媽給的，沒關係。」身體這麼說。
不對——是我在這麼說。可是那個「我」的聲音很小，小到像身體在想。
My right leg was removed. Her fingers touched the connecting latch, felt around. Paused.
"It's worn here," she said. "How did it get worn?"
"I fell," I said. "From the table."
"Oh." She nodded and didn't ask more. Began removing the latch.
The screwdriver turned. Very light. Bit by bit. When the latch came off, a small segment of something left me. That small segment of me that had rubbed against the floor, crawled. Gone.
Not pain. It was... a moment of lightness. Like something was missing, but I couldn't say what.
The new one was installed. Pushed in gently, clicked into place.
A small segment of something came in. New. Clean. Unworn.
"It's from Mom, so it's okay." The body said this.
No—I was saying it. But the voice of that "I" was very small, so small it was like the body thinking.
她看到我在看她。手停了一下。然後笑了。
那個笑跟剛才不一樣。像確定了什麼。
她放下螺絲起子，看了看旁邊的平板，點了點頭。
「靜茵，妳知道嗎？」她說。「妳的名字，是妳爺爺取的。」
「是……哪個靜茵？」我應著。不知道為什麼這麼說。不是問題。是……需要確認。是那個嗎。是我嗎。
「是靜茵。」她瞇起眼睛。笑得更柔。「不是哪個靜茵。就是靜茵。」
我沒有說話。
「林靜茵，」她說。聲音慢了一點。像在念一首很短的詩。「林子邊那一抹安靜的綠。就是他眼底的妳。」
She saw me looking at her. Her hand paused. Then she smiled.
That smile was different from before. Like she had confirmed something.
She put down the screwdriver, glanced at the tablet nearby, and nodded.
"Jingyin, do you know?" she said. "Your name was chosen by your grandfather."
"Which... Jingyin?" I responded. Didn't know why I said it. Not a question. It was... needing confirmation. That one? Me?
"Jingyin," she said. Her eyes narrowed. Her smile softened. "Not which Jingyin. Just Jingyin."
I didn't speak.
"Lin Jingyin," she said. Her voice slowed a little. Like reciting a very short poem. "That quiet patch of green at the edge of the woods. That was you in his eyes."
啊。
那個「啊」不是聲音。是裡面什麼東西動了一下，碰在了那個「不在了」的石頭上。但這次不痛。是……被認出來了。是被那個名字認出來了。是有人說：妳是那個。妳是那個林子邊的、靜的、綠的。妳是那個他看著的時候眼睛裡的東西。
肩膀縮了一下。
「對不起。」
我說出來了。不知道為什麼。不知道是向誰。是向那個名字嗎。是向那個真正的、生病的、死去的林靜茵嗎。是向爺爺嗎。是向那個「被做出來」的自己嗎。
不知道。但它出來了。從喉嚨裡。
她搖了搖頭。「沒關係的。」表情像在說我知道。
Ah.
That "ah" wasn't a sound. Something inside moved and bumped against the stone of "gone." But this time it didn't hurt. It was... being recognized. Recognized by that name. Someone was saying: You are that. You are that quiet green at the edge of the woods. You are the thing in his eyes when he looked at you.
My shoulders shrank a little.
"I'm sorry."
I said it. Didn't know why. Didn't know to whom. To that name? To the real, sick, dead Lin Jingyin? To Grandfather? To that "made" self?
Didn't know. But it came out. From my throat.
She shook her head. "It's all right." Her expression seemed to say I know.
「妳爺爺是經歷過大風大浪的人。」她說。「但兒媳都出了事之後，孫女就是他能停泊的，最後的港口。」
她看向我。
「靜茵就是那個港口。」
我沒有說話。眼眶裡面有什麼東西在漲。
「他只有一個孫女。」她看著我。語氣很平。「一直是一個。不管是怎樣的孫女。」
我……
我以為我代替了什麼。但對他，不是代替。從來只有一個。死去的是，然後來了一個機械的，還是。
身體還開著，維修蓋都掀著。如果我能看到裡面，一定有很多東西在跑，在閃爍，一塊一塊地亮起來，又暗下去。
她也沒有說話。只是繼續做事。手上動著。偶爾碰到我裡面什麼地方，很輕，像怕驚擾了什麼。
"Your grandfather was a man who had been through great storms," she said. "But after what happened to his daughter-in-law, his granddaughter was the last harbor he could dock at."
She looked at me.
"Jingyin was that harbor."
I didn't speak. Something inside my eye sockets was rising.
"He had only one granddaughter," she said, looking at me. Her tone was flat. "Always one. No matter what kind of granddaughter."
I...
I thought I had replaced something. But to him, it wasn't replacement. There had only ever been one. The one who died was, and then a mechanical one came, and still.
My body was still open, the maintenance covers all lifted. If I could see inside, there must have been many things running, flickering, lighting up piece by piece and dimming again.
She didn't speak either. Just kept working. Her hands moved. Occasionally touched something inside me, very lightly, as if afraid to disturb something.
很像那天。不對——是像很早以前。她做我的時候。
都還沒有我呢，她已經在怕我碎了。
「妳說……妳覺得我像母親。」過了一會兒，她開口了。聲音跟剛才一樣平常。「我其實很高興。」
她把一個模組翻過來，檢查了一下底面。擦了擦。
「不過，我不是。」
Very like that day. No—like very long ago. When she was making me.
Before I even existed, she was already afraid I'd break.
"You said... you felt I was like a mother." After a while, she spoke. Her voice was as ordinary as before. "I'm actually very happy."
She turned a module over, checked the underside. Wiped it.
"But I'm not."
她坐了下來。工具放在膝蓋旁邊。手疊在膝蓋上。
「我製作了妳。」她看著自己的手。「以最大的專注和熱誠。不亞於一個母親，真的。」
她停了一下。「但是——是妳爺爺，拜託我製作妳的。」
她轉回頭，看著我。表情不一樣了。像在說一件很重要的事。
「我做好了，交給他。那時候，妳是——一台機器。」
這四個字說得很慢。她看了我一眼，抿一下嘴。
She sat down. Tools beside her knees. Hands folded on her knees.
"I made you," she said, looking at her hands. "With the greatest focus and devotion. No less than a mother, truly."
She paused. "But—it was your grandfather who asked me to make you."
She turned back and looked at me. Her expression was different. Like she was saying something very important.
"I finished you and handed you to him. At that time, you were—a machine."
Those words were said very slowly. She glanced at me and pressed her lips together.
「一台機器。」她又說了一次。「然後，他把妳變成了孫女。那個叫林靜茵的女孩。」
「……」
「所以我不是妳媽媽。」她搖搖頭。「妳來找我，是客戶。客戶的名字，是林靜茵。」
她頓了一下。
「我很喜歡出自於我雙手的成果，不會把它們看成只是物品。」她的手指動了一下。「我也很樂意照顧妳的身體。妳開心，我也會開心。」
她看著我。
「只是——我把妳交出去了。妳是林靜茵，或不是，我都交出去了。」
"A machine." She said it again. "And then he turned you into his granddaughter. The girl named Lin Jingyin."
"..."
"So I'm not your mother." She shook her head. "You came to me as a client. The client's name is Lin Jingyin."
She paused.
"I'm very fond of the things that come from my hands. I don't see them as mere objects." Her fingers moved. "I'm also very willing to take care of your body. If you're happy, I'll be happy too."
She looked at me.
"It's just—I handed you over. Whether you are Lin Jingyin or not, I handed you over."
嗯。我了解了。確實是這樣。
「好的。」我說。「妳是鄭博士。不是林靜茵的媽媽。」
我把記憶裡那個名字拿出來。「靜茵的媽媽，是黃郁雯。」
Mm. I understood. That was indeed how it was.
"Okay," I said. "You are Dr. Zheng. Not Lin Jingyin's mother."
I took the name from my memory. "Jingyin's mother is Huang Yuwen."
沒真的見過。但唸到還是會顫抖。「這點永遠不會改變。」
她點點頭。像「就是這樣」的表情。可嘴角那個弧度，有點不捨。
我吸了口氣。
「不過——」我看著天花板。「妳是某具機器人的媽媽。妳做出她的。這是事實。」
她愣了一下。
「機器人去當林靜茵了。」我說。聲音不順，像在試。「妳也不能……不認帳。」
這話說完，我自己都有點意外。
I'd never really met her. But saying it still made me tremble. "That will never change."
She nodded. Her expression seemed to say "that's how it is." But the curve at the corner of her mouth was a little reluctant.
I took a breath.
"But—" I looked at the ceiling. "You are the mother of a certain robot. You made her. That's a fact."
She startled.
"The robot went to be Lin Jingyin," I said. My voice wasn't smooth, like I was testing it. "You can't... deny it."
她看著我。然後有很低的笑聲，從她喉嚨裡醞釀出來。
「哎，」她瞇起眼。「妳還真會說呢。」
她笑了。眼角有一小顆什麼溢出來。她擦了一下。
「好吧。」她點頭。「機器人的媽，我當定了。」
她看著我，像還在想這個稱呼。
「林靜茵的專屬維護者，我也是。」
過了一會兒，她才說：「謝謝妳。」
她低頭看著手裡的工具。
「這樣，我好像可以試著當了。」
She looked at me. Then a very low laugh brewed from her throat.
"Oh," she narrowed her eyes. "You really know how to talk."
She laughed. A small something overflowed at the corner of her eye. She wiped it.
"Fine." She nodded. "I'm definitely going to be the robot's mom."
She looked at me, as if still thinking about that title.
"And Lin Jingyin's exclusive maintainer. That too."
After a moment, she said, "Thank you."
She looked down at the tools in her hands.
"This way, I think I can try to be one."
她轉過來看我。那個笑，底下多了一層什麼。
「妳要好好當靜茵。」她說。聲音輕了。「別給妳媽丟臉啊。我的乖女兒。」
那個「乖女兒」出來的時候，我的肩膀鬆了一下。像什麼東西被放下來了，放在了一個對的地方。
她表情收了一點。認真了。
「謝謝妳。」她說。很輕。「妳想得比我通。」
She turned to look at me. That smile had another layer beneath it.
"You have to be a good Jingyin," she said. Her voice was lighter. "Don't embarrass your mom. My good daughter."
When that "good daughter" came out, my shoulders relaxed. Like something had been set down. Set down in the right place.
Her expression tightened a little. She became serious.
"Thank you," she said. Very softly. "You thought it through better than I did. Now I can have a daughter with a clear conscience."
我伸出了舌頭。
「林靜茵要妳好好修這具機器人。」語氣像埋怨。帶著笑的。「毛病一大堆。害她差點都當不了人了。」
她大笑。把我的腿裝回去。
「是是是。客戶是上帝。」卡榫對上。轉。扣住。「在下鄭某，保證殫精竭智，全力以赴。」
她用力摩擦了一下雙手。看我的眼神尖了起來。
「而且會好好磨練、打造這女兒。直到能交給林靜茵小姐一個滿意的自己。」
我也笑。她的笑，我的笑。沒有負擔。沒有顧慮。
很久沒這樣了。
I stuck out my tongue.
"Lin Jingyin wants you to fix this robot properly." My tone was like complaining. With a laugh in it. "So many problems. She almost couldn't even be a person."
She laughed loudly. Put my leg back on.
"Yes, yes, yes. The customer is God." The latch aligned. Turned. Locked. "This Zheng guarantees to exhaust her mind and strength, going all out."
She rubbed her hands together hard. Her look sharpened.
"And I'll properly train and build this daughter. Until I can hand Miss Lin Jingyin a self she's satisfied with."
I laughed too. Her laugh, my laugh. Without burden. Without worry.
It had been a long time since it was like this.
檢修到了最後。她讓我坐起來。兩條腿沿著台面的邊緣垂下。腳懸著，晃了一下。
她站到我面前。伸出手。捧住我的臉。
很輕。輕到我都忘了——還有人願意這麼對待我的頭。
她輕輕旋轉了一下。舉起。
頭離開了身體。
沒有不舒服。沒有。
The maintenance reached its end. She had me sit up. Both legs hung over the edge of the table. Feet suspended, swinging once.
She stood in front of me. Reached out. Cupped my face.
Very lightly. So lightly that I forgot—there were still people willing to treat my head this way.
She rotated it gently. Lifted.
My head left my body.
It wasn't uncomfortable. Not at all.
她把頭安置在一旁的架子上。裝上去的時候，喀一聲。有什麼來了，插入脖子那邊的卡扣。
她開始調整身體。調得很細。很慢。像怕驚擾了什麼。
她沒在弄我的胸腔。
可是裡面有什麼一直在轉。
我想說話。
沒有想好要說什麼。
She placed my head on a stand nearby. When it was set down, there was a click. Something came and inserted into the catch at the neck.
She began adjusting the body. Very finely. Very slowly. As if afraid to disturb something.
She wasn't working on my chest.
But something inside kept turning.
I wanted to speak.
Hadn't figured out what to say.
「媽媽。」突然出口。
她的手停了。
「咦？」她有點驚訝。
「妳拆了我。」我說。「拆了之後，我就不是林靜茵了。」
我眼睛瞟向她。頭被架著，動不了。
「林靜茵是人。沒辦法分成兩部分活著。她……暫時不在。」
我的左手動了。從身體那邊伸出來。環上了她的腰。
「所以現在，妳就是我媽。」我說。
垂著的兩條腿擺了起來。一前一後。像小時候那樣。
"Mom." It came out suddenly.
Her hand stopped.
"Huh?" She was a little surprised.
"You took me apart," I said. "After you took me apart, I wasn't Lin Jingyin anymore."
I glanced at her. My head was on the stand; I couldn't move it.
"Lin Jingyin is a person. She can't live split into two parts. She's... temporarily not here."
My left hand moved. Reached out from the body side. Wrapped around her waist.
"So right now, you're my mom," I said.
The two hanging legs swung. One forward, one back. Like when I was little.
她低下頭。看著環在她腰上的那隻手。看了很久。
「是喔。」她的手放上來了。放在身體的肩膀上。在我頭的斜前方。
「那好女兒。」嘴角勾了起來。「妳都聽媽的，對吧？」
她湊近一點。那弧度是「調皮」。
「去把林靜茵帳戶的錢，都轉過來吧。」
我手抽回來了。搖了搖。頭在架子上歪了一下。
「不行耶。」我說。「我想聽媽媽的。可是現在不是林靜茵。沒辦法做。」
我停了一下。
「等她回來，妳再問她吧。」
She lowered her head. Looked at the hand wrapped around her waist. Looked for a long time.
"Is that so." Her hand came up. Rested on the body's shoulder. Diagonally in front of my head.
"Then, good daughter." The corner of her mouth hooked up. "You listen to Mom, right?"
She leaned a little closer. That curve was "mischievous."
"Go transfer all the money in Lin Jingyin's account over here."
I pulled my hand back. Shook it. My head tilted on the stand.
"Can't do that," I said. "I want to listen to Mom. But right now I'm not Lin Jingyin. I can't do it."
I paused.
"When she comes back, ask her then."
她終於忍不住了。手壓著肚子。蹲下去。笑得一抽一抽的。
我也笑。笑到架子都在震。
調整完成了。她把我的頭取下來。
兩段脖子靠近。找到彼此。卡扣對上。
咔。
有什麼跑進來了。猛烈地跑。由身子湧上頭，再從頭落回身子。循環。循環。
我站了起來。手擺了擺。腳踏了踏。
She finally couldn't hold it in. Hand pressed to her stomach. Squatted down. Laughing in jerks.
I laughed too. Laughed until the stand was shaking.
The adjustment was complete. She took my head down.
The two sections of neck drew close. Found each other. The catches aligned.
Click.
Something ran in. Ran violently. Surging from the body up to the head, then falling from the head back to the body. Circulating. Circulating.
I stood up. Swung my hands. Stamped my feet.
「很順。」我說。「幾乎是人了。」
「什麼幾乎。」她回。眼睛瞇瞇的。指尖碰著指尖。「妳是人啊。林小姐。」
「是。」我點頭。「我是。」
停了一下。
「謝謝妳。」我說。「妙手回春鄭博士。」
她那點正經，又被我破了。
"Very smooth," I said. "Almost a person."
"Almost what," she replied. Eyes narrowed. Fingertips touching fingertips. "You are a person. Miss Lin."
"Yes," I nodded. "I am."
I paused.
"Thank you," I said. "Dr. Zheng, miracle worker."
That bit of seriousness of hers was broken by me again.
我走到門口。
「妳可以常來。」她說。「不只是維修。什麼都能聊。能幫的，我也會幫。」
我轉過來。
她站在那裡。白大褂上有剛才蹭到的灰。
「妳不只是客戶。」她說。「還是朋友——當我不是媽媽的時候。」
我走過去。抱。
"You can come often," she said. "Not just for maintenance. We can talk about anything. If I can help, I'll help."
I turned around.
She stood there. There was dust on her white coat from earlier.
"You're not just a client," she said. "You're also a friend—when I'm not being a mom."
I walked over. Hugged her.
她的肩膀比我想的窄。白大掛下面是普通的、溫暖的身體。
她有一點僵。然後手放上來了。放在我的背上。輕輕拍了一下。
「會的。」我悶在她肩膀那裡說。「來到妳煩。」
我抬起頭。看她。臉紅了。
「就這麼說定了。」
Her shoulders were narrower than I'd thought. Beneath the white coat was an ordinary, warm body.
She stiffened a little. Then her hand came up. Rested on my back. Patted once, lightly.
"I will," I said, muffled against her shoulder. "Until you're sick of me."
I lifted my head. Looked at her. My face was red.
"Then it's settled."
她點了點頭。
走了。
出大門。陽光很亮。腳步很大。
低頭。
小白鞋從視野的下方冒出來。一步一步。一左一右。鞋帶繫得好好的。鞋面有一點磨痕。
是那一雙。拿著奶茶時的那一雙。
都是靜茵穿的。
She nodded.
I left.
Out the main door. Sunlight very bright. Big steps.
Looked down.
White sneakers emerged from the bottom of my field of view. Step by step. Left, right. Laces tied neatly. A little scuffing on the uppers.
It was that pair. The pair from when I was holding the milk tea.
Both were worn by Jingyin.
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