童年是在一碗碗褐色药汤里度过的。爷爷佝偻的背影，药罐里冒出的气体，还有不断舔舐着罐底的蓝色火苗，都一一定格在时光碎片里。那时爷爷总会端着一个白瓷碗，手里带着两块冰糖，笑眯眯地递送到我面前：“良药苦口利于病，乖囡囡，喝了药身体就好了。”我却时常任性地将药碗打翻，留下爷爷独自躲在屋内哭泣。

Childhood is spent in a bowl of brown medicine soup. Grandpa's hunched back, the gas from the medicine can, and the blue flames licking the bottom of the can are all fixed in the fragments of time. At that time, Grandpa would always carry a white porcelain bowl with two pieces of ice sugar in his hand and pass them to me with a smile: "a good medicine is bitter for the sick, and a good girl will be well after drinking it." But I often wilfully overturn the medicine bowl, leaving grandpa alone in the house to cry.

在病榻上层能靠看书画画来消磨时光。于是从家中破旧的中草药图典里认识了许多美丽的名字：白芷，半夏，紫宛，青黛……爷爷不厌其烦地告诉我它们的功效作用。我常常想，她们前世一定是温婉绰约的美丽女子，然后化作这些草药给病人以最大的安抚。《红楼》里林妹妹让人惋怜的身影，也许只有药香的衬托才楚楚动人吧。夏喝香薷解暑，冬喝冰糖燕窝……氤氲里的潇湘馆才显得如此与众不同。

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