《拉薩情書》

《拉薩情書》
第一章、日月潭水社碼頭邊的人像畫家
1
兩岸開放觀光後，日月潭和阿里山成為內地同胞來台旅遊，行程裡最常安排的觀光景點。
日月潭位於中台灣南投縣魚池鄉，群山環抱，是一座低海拔的山區湖泊，水色映著山光，彷彿山林間一顆明亮璀璨的藍寶石，吸引來自各地遊客旅人。觀光遊艇往來於水社、德化(伊達邵)、玄光寺和朝霧碼頭間，遊客們流連在碼頭區商店街裡，享受各式在地美食。
水社碼頭邊的角落裡，一個名叫湯懷民的青年，五官輪廓深邃，穿著傳統的鄒族服飾，他擺設一座人像畫攤，以漫畫筆法吸引來自各地的觀光客。遊湖的觀光客，紛紛停下腳步駐足在他的畫攤前，指著幾幅名人的人像漫畫彼此討論著；一對情侶坐在高腳椅上，讓懷民為他們繪製Q版人像畫，後面的樹蔭下有幾個遊客正在等待著。懷民筆法俐落，先以炭筆描出髮型和輪廓，隨即上色，約莫半小時，就完成一幅情侶Q版人像。這對情侶起身，端著裝框後的Q版人像畫，互相調侃，歡喜地付了錢離開。等候的遊客隨即坐上高腳椅，懷民喝了幾口自家生產的阿里山高山茶，繼續服務捧場的遊客。
接近中午，一個穿著花襯衫牛仔褲，梳著俏麗赫本頭的大女孩，她叫唐夢影，手裡提著兩只便當盒來到攤位前，在矮凳上坐著，等懷民完成人像畫作。十分鐘後，懷民起身，把剛完成的Q版人像裝框，給了一對老夫婦，收下一張五百元紙鈔，接著掛出休息一小時的告示牌，向等待的遊客深深一鞠躬，請他們先去用餐。
唐夢影把兩只便當餐盒蓋掀開，一只裡頭是日式壽司卷，另一只是幾道炒青菜和豆干條炒丁香魚。
「懷民，壽司卷是我親手做的，青菜和丁香魚是飯店裡的師傅們炒的，我跟他們要的。」夢影臉上掛著滿足的笑意。
「夢影，我不挑食的，妳不用花時間，特地幫我準備餐盒。」懷民拿濕毛巾差乾淨雙手，端起那盒壽司卷，手指抓著吃。
「我能幫你做的就這些啊！你又不讓我幫你清洗衣服。」
「當然不能讓你幫我洗衣服，讓妳爸知道，妳會被他叨念個沒完。」
「我才不擔心呢！我媽說：女人就應該照顧好男人的衣食，盡自己的本分。」
「可是，我不想妳每餐花那些心思，去弄餐盒啊！」
「其實也沒花多少時間，就是變換菜色啊！不想你吃膩。對了，留學申請你提出沒？截止日期快到囉。」
「等明年吧？我正在努力存錢。」
「錢不成問題，你趕緊去申請，我手邊的私房錢足夠我們去巴黎讀書。」
「那不行！我是男人，怎麼能用妳的錢？」懷民表情突然嚴肅起來。
「你是我的未婚夫耶！為什麼不行？」夢影不以為然。
「反正我說不行，就是不行！」懷民語氣堅決。
「可你這樣會浪費掉一年時間耶！」
「在這裡當街頭畫家，我不覺得是浪費時間啊！」
「好…好吧！說不過你，我只好奉陪囉！」夢影一臉無奈，嘆氣說：「唉…！我爸若知道我要晚一年出國，他一定會樂壞了。」
「這一年，妳就幫忙妳爸經營飯店生意啊！」
夢影苦笑說：「是喔！幫他做牛做馬，領一份薪水。」

2
唐夢影拎著空便當餐盒回到飯店大廳，櫃台一名女服務生走出來，來到夢影面前，恭敬地說：「經理，董事長在辦公室等妳喔。」
「知道了！麻煩妳一下，洗乾淨放回我辦公室。」夢影把餐盒交給她，走到電梯前搭電梯上樓。
夢影走進董事長室，唐雲飛從座位上起身，走過來。
「ㄚ頭，老爸交代妳兩件事。」
「啥事？爸。」
「其一，三天後我和趙總要率領旅館同業交流團飛去大陸，走訪上海、北京、重慶等個重點城市，前後會待上半個月，這段期間妳要維持飯店正常營運。」
唐夢影苦笑說：「老爸，你又想壓榨勞工？好吧！其二嘞？」
「其二，有內地旅行團領隊跟我反應，說房間和走廊的西洋油畫和風景圖片，可否改為台灣本地風景的水墨或水彩畫。妳找懷民商量一下，讓他畫些台灣風景水墨或水彩畫，裱框後送來。」
「老爸，那價錢要比照市面行情喔！不然我不好向懷民開口。」
「那是當然！」唐雲飛接著問：「你跟懷民幾時要去巴黎？」
「懷民說等他存夠盤纏，明年提出申請。」
「好！這年輕人知道要自食其力，有骨氣！妳晚一年出去，先等我大陸那邊布局好。」唐雲飛對這答案感到滿意。
「是喔！我就知道你打我的如意算盤，老爸。」夢影一臉無奈。
唐雲飛微笑著輕拍夢影的肩膀說：「父女間不要計較啦，我的飯店事業，將來還不是要交棒給你和懷民？」
夢影憂心說：「老爸，你這棒子很沉耶！我擔心將來懷民無心接手，他向來閒雲野鶴慣了…。」
唐雲飛說：「那妳就要想辦法去改變他囉！」

3
水社碼頭邊，湯懷民正在幫一對姐妹畫人像，一些遊客圍觀他作畫，一個穿著喇嘛僧服，光頭的老僧人也在圍觀的人牆裡，他目不轉睛地盯著湯懷民，直到懷民完成人像畫，這喇嘛趨前，雙手合十向湯懷民鞠躬行禮，懷民和圍觀者正感詫異。
喇嘛語帶玄機問：「施主，你可知你的前世是何人？」
懷民納悶地搖頭。
「你聽過藏王松贊干布嗎？」
懷民點頭說：「聽我爺爺說過。」
「你的前世就是松贊干布，我方才經過，端詳你的面貌，察覺你的靈體後才確認無誤。」喇嘛表情認真，語調卻相當平和。
懷民不解地問：「仁波切告知我這事，不曉得你的用意是…。」
「你必須盡快回到拉薩，文成公主會在拉薩出現，你們要一起完成一項艱鉅使命，然後你們會長相廝守。」
懷民覺得不可思議，續問：「仁波切怎知我是藏族後人？」
「我看見你的原靈，特地點化你，和你結個善緣。請務必把我的話放在心上。貧僧叫貢嘎‧索南，你來到拉薩後，到小昭寺找我，我是該寺的監寺喇嘛。」
圍觀的旅客聽著兩人對話，議論紛紛。索南喇嘛隨即轉身離開，懷民望著他的背影，心裡卻很不平靜。

4
華燈初上，湯懷民坐在書桌前，點開筆電視窗，使用搜索軟體找到藏王松贊干布和文成公主的畫像，懷民端詳著松贊干布，感到震驚不已，喃喃自語：「怎麼這個松贊干布，五官竟然和我如此神似？真的有輪迴轉世嗎？如果只是巧合，為什麼那個喇嘛一口咬定我就是松贊干布轉世？」
湯懷民斜倚窗口，望著湖面回想那個老喇嘛對他說的那席話：「你的前世就是松贊干布，…你必須盡快回到拉薩，文成公主會在拉薩出現，你們要一起完成一項艱鉅使命，然後你們會長相廝守。」
「如果我真是藏王松贊干布輪迴轉世，為什麼我會出生在台灣島上？那個索南喇嘛言之鑿鑿，而且素不相識竟然知道我是藏族後人？如果我回到拉薩，遇見文成公主轉世的那女孩，那我該怎麼讓夢影諒解，我和那女孩這段前世姻緣呢？」懷民滿腹解不開的疑問，心想：「除非去趟西藏，否則這些謎團是解不開的。」
敲門聲響起，唐夢影端著一只木盤子，上面是兩杯咖啡和幾樣水果。
「陪你喝杯咖啡。」夢影把木盤子擱在桌上。
懷民雙手抱胸望著夢影，思考如何向她說明，今天下午遇見的那個喇嘛。
「我爸說請你幫飯店繪製幾十幅風景水墨和水彩，費用由你開價，你不必再為去巴黎的旅費傷腦筋了。」夢影滿心以為懷民聽了會很高興，沒想到他似乎無動於衷，女人的第六感提醒她，懷民一定有心事。
「怎麼？你有心事？」
「夢影，如果我改變主意，不能跟妳一道去巴黎留學，妳會不會…」懷民越說越感到心虛。
「什麼？你不想去巴黎留學？去巴黎學美術，一直是你的夢想，不是嗎？你說個道理來，想辦法說服我吧！」唐夢影一臉難以置信的表情，立馬連珠炮地追問原因。
「為了實現這個夢想，我準備了三年，但今天在湖邊遇到一個來自西藏的喇嘛，他不只知道我的藏族身分，還說我是藏王松贊干布轉世，必須回到西藏去完成使命。」
「是嗎？你認識那個西藏喇嘛？」夢影按耐住脾氣追問。
懷民搖頭說：「不認識。」
「既然不認識，那喇嘛說的話你就當真？」夢影很不以為然。
「我想那喇嘛說的那些話，一定別有用意…，除非去趟西藏，否則無法解開我心中的謎團。」
「才怪呢！一個素不相識的喇嘛，發神經似地來跟你說些話，就讓你改變心意，說要回去西藏。那麼請你回答我，青梅竹馬長大的我們，這份感情究竟算什麼？」夢影顯然不能接受如此荒唐的理由，情緒瀕臨失控。
「妳冷靜一下好嗎？夢影。」懷民試著安撫夢影的情緒。
「你要我如何冷靜？懷民，這些年我凡事都順著你，你想怎樣我都盡量配合你，現在你三言兩語就想撇開我，你的良心何在？」夢影伸出手指戳著懷民胸口，語氣咄咄逼人，懷民一時間方寸大亂，苦著臉無言以對。

5
大清早，湯懷民留下一封信給夢影擱在書桌上，悄悄揹起旅行袋離開唐家，跨上重機車，往阿里山去。
早餐時間夢影來敲房門，房裡沒反應，夢影走進來，看見寢室棉被整齊疊著，書桌上一封給她的信。夢影拆開信讀過，雙眼淚光閃閃。夢影下樓來，餐桌前唐家兩夫妻見狀大驚。
「ㄚ頭，發生什麼事？」唐雲飛起身，趨前探問。
「懷民，懷民說他要去西藏，不跟我去巴黎留學了！」夢影眼裡的淚水滑落臉頰，眼眉和嘴角因激動而顫抖著。
唐母趙雅雲起身，走過來摟著夢影，柔聲問：「ㄚ頭，你們鬧憋扭了？」
「沒有，我一直都順著他，我只不過質問他，什麼原因讓他突然改變原定計畫。」夢影委屈地訴說著。
「那我陪妳去趟阿里山，當面跟他問清楚，聽他怎麼說。」趙雅雲當下做出決定。
「那你們母女快去快回，別耽誤了我的既定行程。」唐雲飛叮嚀著。
趙雅雲聽了不悅說：「ㄚ頭受了這麼大委屈，你這當爸的，心裡卻只惦記著你的行程？」
唐雲飛苦著臉說：「怎麼我躺著也中槍？妳們這趟去阿里山，好聲好氣跟湯家問清楚，美蘭跟妳是好姐妹，她應該會幫忙勸住懷民的。」
Chapter One: The Portrait Artist at Shuishe Pier, Sun Moon Lake
1
After cross-strait tourism was opened, Sun Moon Lake and Alishan became two of the most popular destinations for visitors from mainland China. Located in Yuchi Township, Nantou County, Sun Moon Lake lies nestled among rolling mountains. Its shimmering waters reflect the surrounding peaks like a brilliant sapphire hidden within the forest, drawing travelers from near and far. Sightseeing boats glide between Shuishe, Ita Thao, Xuanguang Temple, and Chaowu Pier, while visitors wander through the bustling lakeside streets, sampling local delicacies.
At a corner of Shuishe Pier stood a young man named Tang Huai-min. With his deep-set features and dignified presence, he wore traditional Tsou tribal attire and ran a small portrait stand. Using a lively cartoon style, he attracted tourists from all directions. Visitors strolling along the pier paused to admire his work, pointing at caricatures of famous figures and chatting animatedly. A young couple sat on tall stools, posing while Huai-min sketched them. Beneath the shade of nearby trees, several tourists waited patiently for their turn.
Huai-min worked swiftly and confidently. He first outlined the figures with charcoal, then added color. Within half an hour, the couple’s chibi-style portrait was complete. Laughing, they took the framed drawing, paid happily, and walked away hand in hand. The next visitors took their seats. Huai-min took a few sips of his homegrown Alishan high-mountain tea and continued working.
Near noon, a tall young woman in a floral blouse and jeans approached. Her hair was styled in a chic Audrey Hepburn cut. Her name was Tang Meng-ying. Carrying two lunch boxes, she sat on a low stool and waited for Huai-min to finish his drawing.
Ten minutes later, Huai-min stood up, framed the completed portrait for an elderly couple, accepted a five-hundred-dollar bill, and then placed a sign that read “Break—Back in One Hour.” He bowed politely to the waiting tourists, inviting them to return after lunch.
Meng-ying opened the lunch boxes. One contained handmade sushi rolls; the other held stir-fried vegetables and anchovies with dried tofu.
“I made the sushi myself,” she said with a satisfied smile. “The vegetables and anchovies were cooked by the chefs at the hotel—I asked them to help.”
“Meng-ying, you didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” Huai-min said as he wiped his hands with a damp towel and picked up a piece of sushi. “I’m not picky.”
“This is the only way I can help,” she replied lightly. “You won’t even let me wash your clothes.”
“Of course not. If your dad found out, he’d never stop lecturing you.”
“I’m not worried,” she said cheerfully. “My mom always says a woman should take good care of her man.”
“But I don’t want you putting so much effort into making meals every day.”
“It doesn’t take that long. I just change the dishes a bit so you won’t get tired of them.”
She paused, then asked, “By the way, have you submitted your application to study abroad yet? The deadline’s coming up.”
“Maybe next year,” he said. “I’m still saving money.”
“Money isn’t a problem. I have enough savings for both of us to study in Paris.”
“No,” Huai-min replied firmly. “I can’t use your money.”
“You’re my fiancé. Why not?”
“I said no, and that’s final.”
“But you’ll be wasting an entire year!”
“I don’t think being a street artist is a waste of time.”
“Well… fine,” she sighed helplessly. “I guess I’ll go along with you. My dad will be thrilled to know I’m delaying my trip abroad.”
“You can help him manage the hotel this year.”
She gave a bitter smile. “Right—working like a slave for a salary.”
________________________________________
2
Tang Meng-ying carried the empty lunch boxes back to the hotel lobby. A receptionist approached her respectfully.
“Manager Tang, the chairman is waiting for you in his office.”
“Alright. Please wash these and put them back in my office.”
She took the elevator upstairs and entered the chairman’s office. Tang Yun-fei rose from his chair.
“Sweetheart, your father has two things to tell you.”
“What is it, Dad?”
“First, in three days I’ll be leading a hotel industry delegation to the mainland—Shanghai, Beijing, Chongqing. We’ll be gone about two weeks. During that time, you’ll need to manage the hotel.”
She gave a wry smile. “So you’re squeezing more labor out of me again?”
He laughed. “Second, some tour leaders from the mainland suggested replacing the Western oil paintings in the rooms and hallways with Taiwanese ink or watercolor landscapes. Ask Huai-min to paint some local scenery and have them framed.”
“Dad, you’ll have to pay market rates. Otherwise, I can’t bring it up with him.”
“Of course,” he replied. Then he asked, “When are you and Huai-min going to Paris?”
“He says he wants to save enough money first and apply next year.”
“Good,” Tang Yun-fei said approvingly. “A young man should stand on his own feet. You can wait another year—let me finish setting things up on the mainland first.”
She sighed. “I knew you had your own agenda, Dad.”
He smiled and patted her shoulder. “One day this hotel business will be yours and Huai-min’s anyway.”
She looked worried. “But Dad, that’s a heavy burden. I’m afraid Huai-min doesn’t want this kind of life—he’s always been a free spirit.”
“Then you’ll have to find a way to change him,” her father said calmly.
________________________________________
3
Back at Shuishe Pier, Huai-min was sketching portraits for two sisters while a small crowd gathered to watch. Among them stood an elderly monk with a shaved head, dressed in maroon robes. He watched Huai-min intently, never taking his eyes off him. When the portrait was finished, the monk stepped forward, pressed his palms together, and bowed deeply.
Huai-min and the onlookers were taken aback.
The monk spoke in a calm, enigmatic tone.
“Do you know who you were in your previous life?”
Huai-min shook his head.
“Have you heard of King Songtsen Gampo?”
“I’ve heard of him from my grandfather.”
“You were him,” the monk said gently. “I recognized your spirit the moment I saw you.”
Confused, Huai-min asked, “Venerable one, why are you telling me this?”
“You must return to Lhasa as soon as possible. Princess Wencheng will appear there. Together, you must complete a great mission, and only then will you remain together.”
Huai-min stared at him in disbelief. “How do you know I have Tibetan ancestry?”
“I saw your original soul,” the monk replied. “I revealed this to form a karmic connection with you. Please remember my words. My name is Gongga Sonam. When you reach Lhasa, come find me at Jokhang Temple. I am the monastery’s steward.”
The onlookers murmured among themselves as the monk turned and walked away. Huai-min watched his retreating figure, his heart restless and unsettled.
4
As night fell and the city lights gradually came on, Tang Huai-min sat at his desk and opened his laptop. He searched online for portraits of Songtsen Gampo and Princess Wencheng. Staring intently at the images of Songtsen Gampo, he felt a jolt of shock ripple through him.
Murmuring to himself, he said,
“Why does this Songtsen Gampo look so much like me? Could reincarnation really exist? If this is just a coincidence, then why was that lama so certain that I am the reincarnation of Songtsen Gampo?”
Leaning against the window, Huai-min gazed out at the lake, recalling the old lama’s words earlier that day:
“Your previous life was Songtsen Gampo… You must return to Lhasa as soon as possible. Princess Wencheng will appear there. Together, you must complete a great mission, and afterward, you will remain together for eternity.”
“If I really am the reincarnation of Songtsen Gampo,” Huai-min muttered, “then why was I born on the island of Taiwan? How could that lama, a complete stranger, know that I am of Tibetan descent? And if I really do return to Lhasa and meet the reincarnation of Princess Wencheng… how am I supposed to explain all this to Meng-ying? How can she possibly accept a past-life bond like this?”
His mind filled with unanswered questions, he sighed inwardly.
Unless I go to Tibet myself, none of this will ever make sense.
A knock sounded at the door. Tang Meng-ying entered, carrying a wooden tray with two cups of coffee and some fruit.
“Thought I’d keep you company with a cup of coffee,” she said, setting the tray down.
Huai-min folded his arms and looked at her, trying to figure out how to explain the lama he had met that afternoon.
“My dad says he wants you to paint several dozen landscape ink and watercolor paintings for the hotel,” she said. “You can name your price. That way, you won’t have to worry about money for studying in Paris.”
She expected him to be delighted, but he showed little reaction. Her intuition immediately sensed something was wrong.
“What’s the matter? Something on your mind?”
“Meng-ying… if I changed my mind and couldn’t go to Paris with you… would you—”
The words faltered as guilt crept into his voice.
“What? You don’t want to go to Paris anymore?” she exclaimed. “Studying art in Paris has always been your dream! You’d better give me a convincing reason!”
“I’ve prepared for this dream for three years,” he said slowly. “But today, by the lake, I met a lama from Tibet. He knew I was of Tibetan descent—and he said I’m the reincarnation of King Songtsen Gampo. He said I must return to Tibet to fulfill a mission.”
“Really?” Meng-ying asked, restraining her temper. “Do you even know that lama?”
“No.”
“And you believe what a complete stranger tells you?”
“I think… there must be a deeper meaning behind his words. Unless I go to Tibet, I’ll never understand what’s happening inside me.”
“That’s ridiculous!” she snapped. “A stranger spouts some nonsense, and suddenly you want to abandon everything and run off to Tibet? Then tell me—what does our relationship mean? We’ve grown up together!”
Her emotions surged uncontrollably.
“Please calm down, Meng-ying,” Huai-min tried to soothe her.
“How am I supposed to calm down?” she cried. “All these years, I’ve always given in to you, supported you in everything. And now, with just a few words, you want to walk away from me? Where’s your conscience?”
She jabbed a finger into his chest. Huai-min stood there helplessly, unable to respond.
________________________________________
5
Early the next morning, Huai-min left a letter for Meng-ying on the desk. Quietly, he shouldered his travel bag, left the Tang household, mounted his motorcycle, and headed toward Alishan.
At breakfast time, Meng-ying knocked on his door. There was no response. She entered the room and found the bed neatly made and a letter waiting for her on the desk. After reading it, tears welled in her eyes.
She went downstairs, where her parents were already at the table.
“What happened, sweetheart?” Tang Yun-fei asked anxiously, standing up.
“Huai-min… he says he’s going to Tibet. He’s not going to Paris with me anymore.”
Tears streamed down her face as her voice trembled.
Her mother, Zhao Ya-yun, walked over and wrapped her in a hug.
“Did you two have a fight?”
“No… I didn’t argue with him. I just asked why he suddenly changed his plans,” Meng-ying said through sobs.
“Then I’ll go with you to Alishan,” her mother decided at once. “We’ll talk to him face to face.”
“Then hurry back,” Tang Yun-fei added. “I still have my schedule to keep.”
Zhao Ya-yun shot him an annoyed look.
“Our daughter is heartbroken, and all you care about is your schedule?”
Tang Yun-fei sighed.
“How is this my fault? When you get there, talk things through calmly. Mei-lan is your good friend—she’ll help persuade Huai-min.”