雨後的山林格外寧靜。空氣清新，樹葉上還掛著水珠，閃著陽光的微光。爺爺沿著小徑緩緩前行，忽然聽見遠處傳來柴火燃燒的劈啪聲。循聲望去，他看見一間小木屋，煙霧從屋頂緩緩升起。
屋外坐著一位白髮老人，正用竹杯泡茶。見到爺爺靠近，老人微笑著招手說：「來，喝口熱茶吧，山裡的天氣變化快，剛下過雨，別著涼了。」
爺爺接過茶杯，坐在木凳上。茶香清淡，帶著山草的氣息。兩人沒有急著交談，只靜靜看著遠處雲霧纏繞的山巒。
「你住在這裡很久了嗎？」爺爺問。
老人點點頭：「二十多年了。剛開始是為了逃避塵世，後來發現，真正要逃的不是世界，而是自己心裡的雜音。」
這句話深深觸動了爺爺。多年來，他一直在路上尋找意義，卻在這山中偶遇的片刻，感受到久違的平靜。
黃昏時分，兩人一同看著夕陽落下，雲彩染成金紅色。臨別前，老人說：「山不語，但會回應耐心的人。」
爺爺點頭微笑，心裡明白，這次相遇將成為他旅程中最珍貴的一頁。
The Encounter in the Mountains
After the rain, the mountains were quieter than ever. The air was crisp, and droplets still clung to the leaves, glistening in the sunlight. Walking along the narrow trail, Grandpa suddenly heard the crackling sound of burning wood. Following it, he found a small wooden cabin with smoke gently rising from the roof.
Outside sat an elderly man with white hair, brewing tea in a bamboo cup. Seeing Grandpa approach, he smiled and said, “Come, have a warm drink. The mountain weather changes fast—you don’t want to catch a chill after the rain.”
Grandpa accepted the tea and sat on a wooden stool. The tea was light, carrying a faint scent of wild herbs. They didn’t speak right away, simply gazing at the mist drifting over the distant peaks.
“Have you lived here long?” Grandpa finally asked.
The man nodded. “More than twenty years. At first, I came to escape the noise of the world. But later, I realized the real noise I needed to escape was inside me.”
Those words touched Grandpa deeply. For years, he had been searching for meaning through travel—yet in this quiet encounter, he felt a calm he hadn’t known in ages.
As the sun set, painting the clouds in gold and crimson, the two men watched in silence. Before parting, the hermit said softly, “The mountain never speaks, but it always answers those who listen patiently.”
Grandpa smiled, knowing this meeting would remain one of the most precious moments of his journey.
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