The map appeared on the village board in spring, pinned over a notice about a lost dog. A grey rectangle marked the old camphor grove, and inside it, in red, a visitor centre: car park, toilets, a shop selling honey and postcards. The grove had stood at the head of the valley for three hundred years. The spring that fed the lower fields came out of the ground beneath it.
地图是春天出现在村务栏上的，钉在一张寻狗启事上面。一个灰色方块标出了老樟树林，方块里用红色画着一座游客中心：停车场、厕所、一间卖蜂蜜和明信片的商店。那片树林在谷口站了三百年。浇灌低处田地的泉水，就从林下的地里涌出来。
Xia Yu was sixteen and had been elected to the village council as a youth representative, a position that came with a seat, a vote and no one listening. She read the map for a long time. The red rectangle covered the spring, the oldest trees, and the stone table where her grandfather had taught her to play chess. In the margin someone had written: JOBS FOR FORTY FAMILIES.
夏雨十六岁，被选进村委会当青年代表。这个位置有一把椅子、一票表决权，还有没人真的听她说话。她把地图看了很久。红色方块盖住了泉水、最老的几棵树，还有那张石桌——祖父曾在那里教她下棋。图边有人写了一行字：四十个家庭的就业。
At home, her father said the village needed the income. Her mother said the young people were leaving anyway. Xia Yu asked who would use the centre in twenty years, when the spring had gone. Her father said that was a question for twenty years from now. She went to bed with the map folded in her pocket, and in the morning she asked to speak at the hearing.
在家里，父亲说村里需要这笔收入。母亲说年轻人反正都要走的。夏雨问，二十年后泉水没了，那座中心还有谁来用。父亲说，那是二十年后的问题。她揣着折好的地图上床睡觉，第二天早上，她申请在听证会上发言。
The hearing was held in the old grain barn, the only building large enough. Two hundred people came; the wooden benches were supplemented with chairs borrowed from the school. On one side sat the developer's representative with a laptop and a model. On the other sat Uncle Shao, seventy-eight, who had farmed the lower fields since fourteen.
听证会设在老谷仓，那是唯一装得下这么多人的地方。来了两百人，木长凳不够，又添了从学校借来的椅子。一边坐着开发商的代表，带着笔记本电脑和模型。另一边坐着七十八岁的邵伯，他从十四岁起就在低处的田里种地。
The representative spoke first, courteous and precise: forty jobs, a new road, ticket income to repair the school roof. Then Uncle Shao stood. He had no model. He held up a jar of water from the spring. 'This is what we are talking about,' he said. 'Not the trees. The water.' He passed the jar along the bench. People looked at it, then at the map, and the red rectangle seemed to grow.
代表先发言，礼貌而精确：四十个岗位、一条新路、一笔门票分成，用来修学校屋顶。然后邵伯站起来。他没有模型。他举起一只装有泉水的小罐。“我们说的是这个，”他说，“不是树。是水。”他把罐子沿长凳传下去。人们看着罐子，又看向地图，那个红色方块仿佛变大了。
Xia Yu spoke last. Her prepared speech about future generations felt borrowed, so she said something simpler: 'I am the only person in this room who will still be here in fifty years. I am not asking you to stop building. I am asking you to leave the spring where it is.' The barn was quiet. Then someone at the back said, 'The girl has a point,' and the meeting broke into the noise of people who had been waiting to agree.
夏雨最后发言。她准备的那篇关于子孙后代的讲稿听起来像是借来的，于是她说了更简单的话：“这间屋子里，只有我五十年后还会在这里。我不是要求你们停止建设。我是请你们把泉水留在原处。”谷仓安静下来。然后后排有人说：“这姑娘说得有道理。”会场随即炸开一片喧响，那是早就想赞同的人终于开口的声音。
The compromise took a year. The centre was built smaller, and moved to the old bus yard, away from the grove. The car park was gravel, not asphalt. The spring was fenced off and tested four times a year; the results were posted on the village board beside the lost-dog notices that never came down.
妥协花了一年。游客中心建得更小，位置挪到了旧公交场，远离树林。停车场铺的是碎石，不是沥青。泉水被围了起来，一年检测四次；结果贴在村务栏上，就在那些始终没人揭掉的寻狗启事旁边。
The most important document was not the building permit. It was a covenant, written by a county lawyer and signed by the council, the developer and every household. It said the grove could not be sold, built on, or cleared, and any change required two-thirds of residents, including at least one representative under twenty-five. Xia Yu signed last, with a pen that leaked.
最重要的文件不是建设许可，而是一份约定。它由县里的律师起草，村委会、开发商和村里每一户都签了字。约定写明：树林不得出售、不得建房、不得砍伐；任何改动都需三分之二村民同意，且至少有一名二十五岁以下的代表。夏雨最后一个签名，用的笔漏了墨。
Ten years later, the centre was still open, and the spring still ran. The honey shop had closed and become a classroom for weekend nature walks. Xia Yu, now twenty-six, brought her students to the stone table and told them about the hearing. 'They thought they were deciding about trees,' she said. 'They were deciding about who gets a vote.' One of the children asked whether the water would last. She looked at the jar on the table, and answered honestly: 'That depends on us.'
十年后，游客中心还开着，泉水还在流。蜂蜜店关了门，变成周末自然课的教室。二十六岁的夏雨带着学生来到石桌旁，讲起那场听证会。“他们以为自己是在决定树的事，”她说，“其实他们是在决定谁有投票权。”一个孩子问，水还能一直流下去吗。她看着桌上的那只罐子，诚实地回答：“那取决于我们。”