归乡 Homecoming

作者： Michael Luo

枯叶飘摇林瑟瑟，残风呼号山萧萧。易飘浮于地面之上几寸，双眼紧闭，双手合十，聆听巴鲁鄂鸟啼咏的晨曲。凉爽的风拂过他裸露在外的面庞，撩拨他的眉毛。

Wilted leaves fall from shivering branches, as a gust of wind blows across the mountain slopes. Yi levitates a few inches above the ground, his eyes closed and hands folded, listening to the morning songs of Bahrl jays. The cool breeze touches his bare face, and tickles his brow.

他静静叹出一口气，缓缓下降，直到靴子碰到泥土。他睁开双眼露出微笑。万里晴空是少见的怡人美景。

Releasing a quiet sigh, he descends until his boots touch the dirt. He opens his eyes and smiles. Clear skies are a rare, friendly sight.

易轻拍衣袍上的灰尘，发现了几缕掉落的头发。多数都是黑色的，也有几缕白色，一如野生蚕丝。

Yi dusts off his robe, noticing some loose, fallen hairs. Most are black, with a couple white, like wild silk.

已经有多久了？他暗自好奇。

How long has it been? he wonders.

他把一个斜纹布包挎在肩头，继续上路，留在身后的是一片曾经充满生机、如今静止不动的树林。

Swinging a twill bag over his shoulder, he continues his hike, leaving behind trees that once swayed with life, but now stand still.

易向山下望去，回看自己走过的路。下面的大地柔软、脆弱——是要保护的珍宝。他看向前方，继续向上爬。在前方的路上，百合花纷纷凋零，他们多彩的花瓣都变为病恹的棕色。

Yi glances down the mountain to see how far he has come. The lands below are soft, fragile—treasures to be protected. He looks forward and resumes climbing. On the path ahead, lilies wither, their coral petals turning a sickly brown.

“没想到在山上还能看着人。”一个声音喊道。

“Didn’t expect to see anyone up here,” a voice calls out.

他停下脚步仔细听，一只手握紧了腰间穿环的剑。

He pauses to listen, his hand clutching the ringed sword by his waist.

“你也是来找牲口的吗？”那个声音越来越近。“笨蛋畜牲。它们总是进到这里出不来。”

“You also looking for your herd?” The voice grows closer. “Stupid beasts. They always get caught in this area.”

易看到了一位年迈的农妇走近，握剑的手松了下来。她穿着一件简朴的衬裙，外层用杂乱的破布缝补。她走到跟前，易鞠了一躬。

Yi sees an aging farmer approach, and loosens his grip. She wears a simple kirtle, sewn over with assorted scraps of cloth. He bows as she draws near.

“哎，我又不是僧尼，别多礼。”她说，“你不像是在地里干活的人，你那些刀剑肯定不是用来割草的。到这有何贵干啊？”

“Bah, save your etiquette for the monks,” she says. “You don’t look like you work the land for a living, ‘cause those blades sure aren’t for cutting weeds. What brings you here?”

“天气不错，散散步。”易的声音中佯装了无辜。

“Good day for a hike,” Yi replies, his voice feigning innocence.

“这么说你是来练剑的喽？诺克萨斯这么快就要回来了？”她笑着说。

“So you’re here to train, huh? Noxus coming back so soon?” she asks with a chuckle.

“日落之处，必见落日。”

“Where the sun sets once, it will again.”

农妇哼了一声，她知道这句古谚。大多数南部省份的人都知道。“好吧，那他们回来的时候告诉我一声。到时候我就坐船离开这座岛。但眼下要紧的是，用你的剑来帮助一个颤颤巍巍的老太婆可好？”

The farmer snorts, recognizing the old proverb. It is known by most in the southern provinces. “Well, you let me know when they return. That’ll be the day I sail off this island. But until then, why don’t you put those swords of yours to good use and help a frail, old lady?”

她招呼易跟上自己。他没有拒绝。

She beckons Yi to follow. He obliges.

他们来到一片树林旁边。一只羚牛幼崽正在痛苦地哀嚎，它的后腿被粗壮的藤蔓牢牢缠住，越是挣扎，缠的越紧。

They stop next to a wooded area. A baby takin whimpers in agony, its hind legs bound by thick, swollen vines that tighten as the creature struggles.

“那边那个是拉沙，”农妇解释道，“他是个小笨蛋，但如果能让他离开这座凶煞的山岭回到田地里的话，他还是有些用处的。”

“That there is Lasa,” the farmer explains. “He’s young and dumb, but he’s more use to me in the field than stuck on this cursed mountain.”

“你觉得这座山有煞气？”易问道，半跪在小动物旁边。他用一只手掌抚摸它毛茸茸的后背，感受它肌肉的抽动和痉挛。

“You think it’s cursed?” Yi asks, kneeling by the beast. He runs a palm over its woolly back, feeling its muscles twitch and spasm.

农妇抱起双臂。“反正，这里发生过一些不灵光的事。”她答道，对着峰顶努了努嘴，“没有了自然魔法，这片土地就要求用物质填补，必要的时候甚至会夺走生命。如果叫我做主，我就放火把这里烧个干净。”

The farmer crosses her arms. “Well, something un-spiritual happened here,” she replies, nodding her head towards the summit. “And without natural magic, the land demands sustenance, even taking life if it has to. Were it my choice, whatever’s up there oughta be burned.”

易注视着那些藤蔓。他没想到在如此远离山顶的地方也能看到它们。

Yi fixates on the vines. He did not expect to see them this far down the mountain.

“我想想办法吧。”他喃喃地说着，从靴子上的铜鞘里拔出两把刀。就在他把钢刃凑近缠绕的藤蔓的瞬间，它们似乎在退缩。

“I’ll see what I can do.” He murmurs, drawing two blades from brass sheaths on his boots. As he edges the steel close to the constriction, the vines seem to cower.

这个瞬间绵延徘徊。一颗颗汗珠刺痛了易裸露在外的脸庞。他闭上双眼。

The moment lingers. Beads of sweat prickle Yi’s bare face. He closes his eyes.

“伊麦，”他用古人的说法默念道。“伊呗。”

“Emai,” he whispers, in the tongue of his ancestors. “Fair.”

羚牛逃脱了，发出一声欢快、高音调的叫声。地上被斩断的藤蔓像松垂的皮肤一样吊挂。

The takin leaps free, letting out a gleeful, high-pitched bleat. On the ground, the cut vines dangle like loose skin.

小动物向山下跳开，欢庆自己的自由，农妇在后面追赶。她用两只手将羚牛一把抓住，紧紧抱在怀里。

The beast springs downhill, reveling in its freedom as the farmer gives chase. She snatches it up in both hands, and hugs the takin close to her chest.

“谢谢你！”她大喊道，没有意识到易已经继续上路了。她对着他的背影高喊，“哎！我忘了问。你练的是什么剑啊？仗已经打完了，你知道……”

“Thank you!” she exclaims, not realizing Yi has already continued on his way. She calls after him. “Hey! I forgot to ask. What are you training for? The war is over, you know…”

他并没有回头。

He does not look back.

我的仗没打完。

Not for me.

又过了一小时，他到达了那片贫瘠之地。一座村庄的残骸散落在他身边，同样的藤蔓也入侵了这里。

After another hour, he reaches the barrens. The carcass of a village lies all around him, invaded by the very same vines.

这里是无极。这里曾是家。

This is Wuju. This was home.

易向坟地前进，走过倾覆的立柱和石雕、民宅、学校、神龛的残骸——所有残破的碎片全都混在一起。他父母的工坊已经散落在碎石之间找不见。没有什么东西可以让他凭吊，时间也不够。

Yi heads for the burial grounds, stepping past toppled beams and stonework, remnants of houses, schools, shrines—the shattered pieces all blend together. The ruins of his parents’ workshop are lost somewhere among the rubble. There is too much to grieve for, and not enough time.

他参拜的墓园以完美的对称结构排列，坟堆之间留有空隙供人通过。比如易这样的人。

The graves he visits are arranged in perfect symmetry, with gaps between the mounds for someone to pass through. Someone like Yi.

“列位的记忆永垂于无极。”

“Wuju honors your memory.”

他用手触碰每一把插在地上的剑柄。这些是他对战士、老师和学徒们的回忆。他没有错过任何一把剑。

He places a hand on every hilt of every sword piercing the earth. These are his memorials to warriors, teachers, and students. He does not skip a single one.

“愿列位的名号为世人谨记。”

“May your name be remembered.”

“请入土安息。”

“Rest. Find peace in the land.”

他的声音很快变得疲惫。

His voice soon grows tired.

天空染上了橙红的色调，还有三座坟墓他没有摸到。最近的一座坟墓前放着一把铁锤，锤头已经在山中的湿气下生锈。易从布袋里掏出一颗桃子，放在坟前。

As the sky becomes painted in shades of orange, three graves remain untouched. The closest is marked by a hammer, its head rusted from the mountain air. Yi pulls a peach out of his bag, setting it beside the mound.

“多兰大师，这是悟空送的。他没能和我一起来，但他想让我把他最喜欢的果子送给您。他非常喜欢自己的长棍，更喜欢嘲笑您给我的这幅头盔。”

“Master Doran, this is from Wukong. He couldn't make the journey with me, but he wanted me to bring you his favorite fruit. He loves his staff, almost as much as he loves making fun of the helmet you gave me.”

他走向最后两座坟墓，墓前守候着金色的剑鞘。

He moves toward the final two mounds, guarded by golden sheaths.

“伊麦，今天天气和煦。伊呗……希望你喜欢暖和的天。”

“Emai, the weather is forgiving today. Fair… I hope you are enjoying the warmth.”

易抽出两把短剑，将它们送进父母坟前的剑鞘中。严丝合缝。他郑重地跪下，深深地埋头。

Yi grasps his two short swords and slides them into the sheaths adorning his parents’ graves. The fit is perfect. He falls to his knees and bows his head.

“愿您二老的智慧继续指引我。”

“May your wisdom continue to guide me.”

他站了起来，把手伸进布包里取出他的头盔。午后的阳光映在它七块镜片上，每一块都反射出不同的光泽。他将头盔靠在心口窝，脑海中回想起这里曾有过的百合花园。

Standing, he reaches into his bag to retrieve his helmet. The afternoon sun catches on its seven lenses, each reflection in a different hue. Holding the helmet close to his heart, he imagines the garden of lilies that once existed here.

那是在尖叫声出现之前。在酸液和毒水扭曲这片土地的魔法之前。

That was before the screams. Before acid and poison twisted the land’s magic against itself.

他佩戴好头盔，周遭的一切都通过万花筒填满他的视野。他双手合十，闭目静心。他心无杂念。无念无想。他的双脚离开了地面，但他自己并不知道。

He dons the helmet, and a kaleidoscope of his surroundings fills his view. Hands folded together, he closes his eyes and empties his mind. He thinks about nothing. Nothing at all. His feet lift off the earth, but he is unaware.

他睁开双眼，见到一切。死亡与腐朽，几乎没有生命的迹象。

Opening his eyes, he sees everything. Death and decay, with little hints of life.

他看到另一个领域中栖息的灵体。它们就像那只可怜的羚牛一样被藤蔓缠住，精萃渐渐虚弱。他知道，任何足够强壮的灵体都会挣脱束缚，抛弃这片煞气浓重的土地。留在这里的都已被腐化……或不久就将被腐化。

He sees spirits that dwell in the realm beyond his own. The vines here trap them as easily as the poor takin, weakening their essence. He knows any spirit strong enough to break free would have abandoned this accursed place. What remains is corrupted… or soon to be.

痛苦、哀伤的哭喊声萦绕在空气中。易自己也曾痛苦地哭喊，但那已经是很久以前了——那时的他还曾以为眼泪能够换回逝者。

Pained, mournful cries haunt the air. Yi used to cry out in pain himself, but that was long ago—back when he thought tears might bring back the dead.

他眨了下眼，物质世界又回来了。有那么一刻，他假装自己肩上不存在这个重担。然后，他又眨了下眼。

He blinks, and the physical world returns. For a moment, he pretends not to bear its weight upon his shoulders. Then, he blinks again.

灵体们在继续哭喊。易抽出了他穿环的剑。

The spirits continue to cry out. Yi draws his ringed blade.

他化作一道残影冲了出去，扫过整片场地，如同季节变换，让人只能循着他身后留下的踪迹确认他来过。一闪过后，他又回到了刚才的地方，完美地保持不动，剑已入鞘。

He dashes in a blur, sweeping across the grounds like a change in season one realizes only after it has passed. In a flash, he is back where he started, perfectly still, his sword resting in its scabbard.

藤蔓一个接一个崩塌。有的从倒下的屋顶上滑落，有的在原地皱缩。

One by one, the vines crumple. Some spill from collapsed rooftops, others shrivel where they lie.

他盘腿而坐，将一切尽收眼底。现在灵体们在欢欣地歌唱，他知道没有什么比这更好的感谢了。他们逐渐消散，大地也在呼应着他们的喜悦。桃花从藤条盘踞之处打出骨朵。没精打采的竹枝挺拔起来，就像被点了名的学生。

He sits cross-legged to take it all in. Now the spirits sing with joy, and he knows there is no greater sign of gratitude. As they melt away, the land echoes their bliss. Peach blossoms sprout where the overgrowth had held firm. Stalks of limp bamboo straighten, like students ordered to attention.

稍纵即逝的微笑揉进了易的脸庞。他摘下头盔，将它放到布袋深处，藏在其他旅行用品下面。水果、坚果……焦炭、火石。一些东西是为自己准备的，一些东西是为了彻底净化大地准备的。

A fleeting smile softens Yi’s face. He removes his helmet and digs into his bag, shuffling past the other items he brought for the journey. Fruits, nuts… char, flint. Things for himself, and things to cleanse the land for good.

现在不需要。暂时还不需要。

Not now. Not yet.

他取出一支芦苇笔，还有一个皱巴巴的卷轴。纸页上写满了符号。60

He retrieves a thin reed pen, and a crinkled scroll. The page is covered in marks.60545441易今天在上面加了几笔。在最下面还有几个字。

41Yi adds a few strokes by today. Below them are more words.

清理间隔30天。

30 days between clearings.

他知道，过不了多久，他就必须让那位农妇如愿，将他的故乡付之一炬。

He knows, soon enough, he will need to grant the farmer her wish, and send his home off in flames.

但现在不需要。暂时还不需要。

But not now. Not yet.