《拉薩情書》

第四章、倉央父女成都藝大重聚
01
成都機場入境大廳，安妮拖著一只行李箱，隻身走出來。安妮在門口攔了一部計程車，坐上車。
「姑娘，妳到哪裡？」
「成都藝術大學。」
計程車駛離機場，往市區方向。
安妮拖著行李箱，來到藝術大學藝術系大樓。
安妮攔住一位綁著馬尾，五官輪廓鮮明的女學生打聽：「請問札希教授的辦公室…？」
「札希老師是我的論文指導教授，現在應該在課堂上課，我叫那森．美多。要不…，我帶妳去？妳的行李可以寄放在辦公室。」
安妮微笑說：「謝謝妳。」
那森．美多陪安妮到辦公室寄放行李，隨即領著安妮進到一間大教室，美多跟安妮揮手後離開。
安妮坐在後排，旁聽父親札希講授「西藏美術史」。
安妮心想：「父親比照片上蒼老許多，他對故鄉西藏相當熟悉，應該經常回去西藏吧？」

02
下課時，學生紛紛離座，安妮走到前門等著父親。札希收拾好講義來到前門，看見安妮，腦海裡浮現Grace的面容，竟然愣了半晌。
安妮以藏語輕喚：「父親，我是倉央．安妮。」
札希手上講義倏地滑落，張開雙臂摟抱安妮，父女重逢，彼此感動到淚光閃閃、不能言語。一旁的幾個學生，好奇地望著兩人。
札希引領安妮回到研究室，安妮從背包裡取出那本祖母寫的《西藏密宗壁畫浮屠圖冊》，遞給札希。
父女倆面對面，坐在木椅上，以藏語對話。
「父親，這本圖冊是祖母卓瑪寫的。我這趟回來，就是想完成卓瑪的遺願。」
「倉央．嘉措情詩手稿的事，Grace跟妳說了？」
「嗯，還有母親和你、李叔叔三人之間發生的事。」
札希苦笑說：「喔？我對不起Grace和妳…。」
「父親，母親走了。」
札希驚訝說：「喔？我還是沒趕上見她一面…。」
「你知道母親罹患腦癌？」
「嗯，大約一年前，建華在信裡告知我，沒想到Grace的病情惡化得這麼快！」
「母親臨終前叮嚀我，要我不能埋怨你，還說她對不起你。」
「唉…，其實我已經原諒她了。當時，我剛從中國回來，跟藝術所繳交博士論文，那期間我意外地得知你母親和李建華發生婚外情，我感到十分沮喪，我母親卓瑪自責沒看管好媳婦。我決定回到中國，固然是受到Grace出軌的刺激，但其實我還有個主要目的，就是尋找先祖倉央．嘉措的情詩手稿，那是倉央家族的傳家寶，卓瑪也同意我的決定。」
「嗯，父親，那卷情詩手稿，我聽祖母對母親提到過。」
「1945年對日抗戰勝利後，我母親卓瑪和飛虎隊飛行員老公那友倫，跟著國民政府去台灣前，把它藏在拉薩老家佛龕的牆壁裡，但經歷文革浩劫後，老家被剷平親人四散，收藏倉央．嘉措情書的檀香木盒從此失落。這二十年來我經常回到西藏明查暗訪，希望能找回那卷情詩手稿，但是始終沒有可靠的訊息，到底那卷情詩還存不存在或者流落何方，至今仍是是個懸案。」
安妮說：「喔，這樣聽起來，要找回那卷手稿，恐怕得碰運氣了。」

03
倉央父女倆開車，回到住處。
札希引領女兒進到屋裡，穿過客廳來到客房。札希說：「安妮，放下行李，妳先休息一下，我去廚房準備晚餐。」
安妮走進客房，放下行李，推開窗戶，望著窗外的風景。
札希走到廚房，親自下廚做了酥油茶和氂牛肉。
餐廳裡，餐桌上擺著一小木桶酥油奶茶，一盆子糌粑粉和一盤紅燒氂牛肉。
札希和安妮對面而坐，安妮把一些奶茶倒進陶碗裡，用湯匙去調和糌粑粉，動作看起來有些笨拙。
「這桌家鄉口味的料理，自從祖母過世後，我就再也沒機會吃到。」
「安妮，直接用手去抓，我們藏人都習慣這樣吃。妳試試看。」
安妮放下湯匙，用手指去抓揉糌粑粉，搓揉成團。
札希夾了一片氂牛肉，放在安妮面前的盤子上：「嚐嚐看，地道的氂牛肉，妳在美國吃不到喔。」
安妮夾起那片牛肉，嘗了一口：「很有嚼勁，肉質很結實。」
「可以燉久一些，不過我喜歡它彈牙的口感。多吃一些，自己來喔！」

04
客廳裡，安妮坐在沙發上，正在翻看一本相簿。札希端來一只盤子，上頭有水梨、蘋果。
「本地產的水果，嚐嚐看。」札希坐下來，見到那本相簿，湊過來看著。
照片裡，父親札希抱著才剛滿月的安妮，母親Grace依偎在英氣風發的父親身旁。父女倆看著相簿，札希凝視著相片上的Grace。
「那時的Grace，真美。李建華是否經常來家裡走動？」
「李叔每年只在我生日那天會來到家裡幫我慶生，但李叔對母親相當尊重，從來沒有不當的言行舉動。」
札希欣慰說：「嗯，他果然信守承諾，言行如一。」
「母親每個月都會帶我去教會領取一筆生活費，我猜想生活費應該是李叔按月交付的。」
「其實，我早就原諒他們兩人。」
這時，美多出現，手裡拎著青稞粉(糌粑)和青稞酒當伴手禮。
札希來不及介紹兩人認識，發現兩人已照過面。
美多微笑說：「很高興又遇見妳。」
「札希是我父親，我剛從美國回來。」
札希微笑問：「妳們見過面了？」
美多問：「嗯！老師，幾時我們動身前往西藏收集論文資料？」
札希說：「等批閱完學生期末報告，送出考評成績，我們就一起動身前往西藏。」

05
出發當天，一個穿著吊帶工作服的青年羅哲．張揚，開來一部廂型客貨車。
札希介紹說：「這是我女兒，安妮，剛從美國回來。」
張揚伸出手說：「幸會！幸會！我叫張揚。」
安妮大方地跟他握手說：「Nice to meet you！很高興認識你(藏語)」
張揚驚訝傻笑說：「原來你會說藏語。」
札希說：「張揚是這裡的地陪，每趟我回去拉薩，都找他開車。」三人跟著張揚把行李搬上車，札希坐前座，兩女坐後座。箱型車出發，走川藏南路，踏上前往拉薩的旅程。

Chapter Four
Reunion of Father and Daughter in Chengdu
________________________________________
01
At the arrivals hall of Chengdu Airport, Annie stepped out alone, pulling a suitcase behind her. She hailed a taxi and climbed inside.
“Where to, miss?” the driver asked.
“Chengdu Academy of Fine Arts.”
The taxi headed toward the city.
Dragging her suitcase, Annie arrived at the Art Department building. She stopped a female student with sharp features and a ponytail.
“Excuse me, may I ask where Professor Zashi’s office is?”
“He’s my thesis advisor,” the student replied. “He should be teaching right now. I’m Nasan Medo. Why don’t I take you there? You can leave your luggage in his office.”
“Thank you,” Annie said with a smile.
Medo led Annie to the office to store her luggage, then guided her to a large classroom. After a brief wave, Medo left.
Annie sat in the back row, quietly attending her father’s lecture on The History of Tibetan Art.
Father looks much older than in the photographs, she thought.
He must return to Tibet often—he knows it so well.
________________________________________
02
When class ended, students filed out of the room. Annie stood near the front, waiting.
Zashi gathered his lecture notes and looked up. When he saw Annie, Grace’s face suddenly appeared in his mind. He froze.
“Father,” Annie said softly in Tibetan. “I am Tsangyang Annie.”
The papers slipped from Zashi’s hands. He opened his arms and embraced her tightly. Father and daughter stood there, tears filling their eyes, unable to speak. Nearby students stared in quiet curiosity.
Zashi led Annie to his office. She took out the illustrated manuscript written by her grandmother and handed it to him.
They sat facing each other, speaking in Tibetan.
“Father, this book was written by Grandmother Dolma. I came back to fulfill her last wish.”
“So Grace told you about the manuscript of Tsangyang Gyatso’s love poems?”
“Yes… and also about what happened between you, Mother, and Uncle Li.”
Zashi sighed bitterly. “I wronged both Grace and you.”
“Father… Mother has passed away.”
Zashi was stunned. “I… I didn’t get to see her one last time…”
“You knew she had brain cancer?”
“Yes. Jianhua told me in a letter about a year ago. I never expected her condition to worsen so quickly.”
“Before she passed, she told me not to blame you. She said she was the one who wronged you.”
Zashi sighed deeply.
“I forgave her long ago. After I returned from China and submitted my doctoral dissertation, I discovered the affair between Grace and Jianhua. I was devastated. My mother, Dolma, blamed herself for not watching over her daughter-in-law. I decided to return to China—not only because of that pain, but also to search for our ancestor Tsangyang Gyatso’s handwritten poetry manuscript. It is a family heirloom. Your grandmother supported my decision.”
“I heard Mother mention it once,” Annie said softly.
“After the victory over Japan in 1945, my mother Dolma and her husband, an American Flying Tigers pilot named Neil Young, followed the Nationalist government to Taiwan. Before leaving, they hid the manuscript inside a shrine wall in our old home in Lhasa. But during the Cultural Revolution, the house was destroyed and our family scattered. The sandalwood box containing the manuscript disappeared. For over twenty years, I’ve searched Tibet again and again, but to this day, no one knows whether it still exists.”
Annie sighed softly.
“Then finding it… may depend on fate.”
________________________________________
03
Father and daughter drove home together.
Zashi led Annie inside.
“Put down your luggage and rest for a bit. I’ll prepare dinner.”
Annie entered the guest room, set down her suitcase, and opened the window, gazing outside.
Zashi prepared butter tea and yak meat in the kitchen.
On the dining table sat a wooden bucket of butter tea, a bowl of tsampa, and a plate of braised yak meat.
They sat facing each other.
Annie poured tea into a ceramic bowl and tried mixing the tsampa, clumsily at first.
“I haven’t eaten food like this since Grandma passed away,” she said softly.
“Use your hands—we Tibetans eat this way,” Zashi smiled. “Try it.”
She kneaded the mixture with her fingers.
Zashi placed a slice of yak meat on her plate.
“Try it. Authentic yak meat—you won’t find this in America.”
She took a bite.
“It’s chewy… very firm.”
“You can stew it longer, but I like it this way. Eat more—help yourself.”
________________________________________
04
Later, Annie sat on the sofa flipping through a photo album. Zashi brought a plate of pears and apples.
“Local fruit. Try some.”
He sat beside her and looked at the album.
In the photo, Zashi held infant Annie while Grace leaned beside him, radiant.
“That was Grace… she was beautiful,” he murmured. “Did Jianhua often come to the house?”
“He only came once a year, on my birthday,” Annie replied. “But he always treated Mom with respect.”
Zashi nodded. “He kept his promise.”
“Mom used to take me to church every month to receive financial support. I think Uncle Li was sending the money.”
“I forgave them both long ago.”
Just then, Medo arrived carrying barley flour and barley wine as gifts.
Zashi was about to introduce them when he realized they already knew each other.
Medo smiled. “Nice to see you again.”
“This is my father,” Annie said. “I just returned from the U.S.”
Zashi smiled. “So you’ve met?”
Medo asked, “Teacher, when are we leaving for Tibet to collect research materials?”
“Once I finish grading final papers, we’ll depart together.”
________________________________________
05
On the day of departure, a young man in overalls drove up in a van.
“This is my daughter, Annie. She just returned from the U.S.,” Zashi introduced.
The man extended his hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Zhang Yang.”
Annie shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Then she added in Tibetan, smiling.
Zhang Yang laughed in surprise. “You speak Tibetan!”
“Zhang Yang is our local guide,” Zashi said. “Every time I go to Lhasa, he drives for me.”
They loaded the luggage. Zashi sat in front, the two women in the back.
The van pulled onto the southern Sichuan–Tibet highway, beginning the long journey toward Lhasa.