在竹简与帛书的残页里，我触摸到先人的手迹与气息。
它们不是尘封的古物，而是文明记忆的纤维，在今日依然延展成新的语言与节奏。
English
Within the fragments of bamboo and silk manuscripts, I touch the traces and breath of the ancients.
They are not relics buried in dust, but living fibers of memory, still unfolding into new language and rhythm today.
Deutsch
In den Fragmenten von Bambus- und Seidenhandschriften berühre ich die Spuren und den Atem der Vorfahren.
Sie sind keine verstaubten Relikte, sondern lebendige Fasern des Gedächtnisses, die sich heute in neue Sprache und Rhythmus fortsetzen.
曾被视为南方蛮夷之地的楚国，却以竹简书写司法判决、九九口诀、战争誓词、祖灵祭语，甚至可能失传的《乐经》节奏符号——从秦家嘴、望山桥到王家嘴，这些残破却精准的文字碎片，构成了文明秩序最早的律动回响。一场从微观日常延伸至国家系统、从死者书写重构生者节奏的楚简修复，正在悄然展开。Once dismissed as a southern barbarian land, the Chu Kingdom recorded legal verdicts, multiplication chants, war poems, ancestral invocations, and even rhythm codes that may belong to a lost Book of Music, all onto fragile bamboo slips. From Qin-jiazui to Wang-jiazui via Wangshanqiao, these fragmented yet precise scripts reveal the earliest pulses of a civilizational rhythm. A meticulous restoration of this microcosmic order—bridging the dead and the living—is quietly underway.
他们说那是考古，是墓，是编号。我却听见：那是还未写完的士人心声，是千年未止的节奏回响。望山、王家嘴、秦家嘴……这些地名不是地点，而是召唤。我没进过现场，却一夜之间，被楚简之声点名。不是因为我懂文字，而是因为我愿听、愿回声。这一篇，是写给“地名简牍”的第一封回信。They call them artifacts, tombs, numbers. But I hear them as unfinished thoughts—voices of Chu scholars still echoing across a thousand years. Wangjiazui, Qinjiazui —these aren't just places; they are summons. I’ve never walked those sites, yet one night, the slips called my name. Not because I understand the script,but because I was willing to listen.This essay is my first letter in reply to the ancient names that wrote themselves into bamboo.
