SLL44: Echo on the Mile 哩長迴聲

A ghostly tale of a Taiwanese couple on a trip to Edinburgh 蘇格蘭鬼譚

Echo on the Mile

It was past ten on a fog-drenched Edinburgh night. The Royal Mile glistened under yellow streetlamps, drizzle falling in waves. The Taiwanese couple walked quietly, jet-lagged and wrapped in scarves. Only their boots echoed—until something else did.

Jia-hui stopped, yanking her boyfriend to a halt. “Did you hear that?”, she said. Yi-ming, tilted his head. Distant bagpipes. Soft, slow. Not from a pub. The sound floated from beneath the cobblestones.

“地下有聲音,” Yiming whispered. “Sounds like it’s underground.”

They followed it downhill through the mist, past shuttered shops and stone closes. The tune didn’t grow louder—but it didn’t stop either.

Until it did.

No fade. Only abrupt silence.

They found themselves standing near a pub with gold-lettered signage: The World’s End.

Jia-hui looked up. “That’s an odd name.”

Before Yi-ming could reply, the door creaked open. A man stumbled out—drunk, bearded, soaked, clutching a can of ale.

He looked at the bewildered couple. He’d seen that look before. “You two,” he slurred, squinting. “Yeh hear the pipes, aye?”

Jia-hui nodded, cautious. “Yes... we followed the lovely music, until it just stopped. Somewhere down here.”

The man chuckled, eyes glassy. “Aye... that’ll be the wee piper.”

“Who’s that?” Jia-hui asked. Yi-ming looked uncomfortable. “沒關係啦。我們走吧。” (“Never mind. Let’s just go.”) But Jia-hui stayed her ground. She wanted to learn more.

This was the cue the drunken Scotsman was waiting for.

“Ye ken Edinburgh’s built on top o’ itself, aye? Layers on layers. Way back, the castle folk found tunnels runnin’ under the Royal Mile. Thought someone could sneak in the back way—so they sent a lad wi’ pipes to test it. Played as he walked, so they could follow his sound.”

He took a long sip.

“Only thing is, the music stopped. Right about here. They never found him. Spooked the folk up the hill, so they sealed the whole tunnel. Called it a risk to the castle.”

Jia bowed her head and whispered, “阿彌陀佛… A-mi-to-fo…”

He nodded toward the pub’s sign. “This here—World’s End—that’s what they called this gate. Netherbow Port, right there. Poor folk never had coin for the toll. They never left. Born here, died here. For them, this was it—end o’ the world.”

“阿彌陀佛… A-mi-to-fo…”

Yiming muttered in Mandarin, “我們是不是不該聽這個鬼故事…” (“Maybe we shouldn’t be listening to ghost stories right now…”)

“阿彌陀佛… A-mi-to-fo…”

As the man wobbled away, he turned. “Let the dead rest, lassie. Don’t stir what lies quiet.” He vanished into the mist.

“我還以為他不會停呢。走吧，回飯店。I thought he’d never stop. Come on, let’s go back.” Yi-ming took Jia-hui’s hand and quickly headed back up the Royal Mile toward their hotel.

And then—bagpipes again. Faint, steady. This time, the music followed them.

Epilogue

Edinburgh has long been called Britain’s most haunted city—and not without reason. Beneath its winding streets and Georgian facades lies a buried world. Greyfriars Kirkyard alone holds the remains of an estimated 100,000 to 500,000 people, though fewer than 1% have marked graves. Bodies lie in layers: plague victims, executed Covenanters, townsfolk laid to rest in reused vaults and mass pits. Some say the soil still shifts with them. The city’s underground vaults, forgotten closes, and haunted sites like Mary King’s Close and the South Bridge add to the sense that Edinburgh isn’t just built on its history—it’s built within it.

For Jia-Hui, the experience left a quiet imprint. She didn’t speak of it much afterward, but something about that night—about the way the music returned when it should have been gone—unsettled her spirit. After they returned to Taipei, she visited Lungshan Temple in Wanhua and underwent a 收驚 (shōu jīng) ritual—literally “absorbing the fright”—a traditional Taiwanese ceremony to cleanse the spirit after a shock or ghostly encounter. An elderly ritual specialist circled her with incense and murmured blessings, calling her spirit back and brushing away lingering fear. In her Pure Land Buddhist tradition, chanting Amitābha’s name is a gesture of compassion, a way of helping lost souls find peace. She didn’t know if the boy piper was real or legend. But sometimes, when she lit incense in their Taipei apartment, she would still whisper “阿彌陀佛”—not just for her ancestors, but for someone far away, beneath a stone street in a foreign land, still walking in darkness, still playing his lonely tune.

哩長迴聲

晚上十點多了，愛丁堡被濃霧籠罩。皇家哩大道在黃色街燈下閃著濕潤的光，細雨一波一波地落下。一對來自台灣的情侶安靜地走著，他們還在調時差，用圍巾裹得緊緊的。原本只聽得到他們靴子的回音——直到另一個聲音加入進來。

家慧停下腳步，拉住她的男朋友。「你有聽到嗎？」她說。一鳴側過頭，傾聽著。遠處傳來風笛聲，輕柔而緩慢，聽起來不像是從酒吧傳出的。那聲音彷彿是從鵝卵石路面下飄上來的。

「地下有聲音，」一鳴輕聲說。「聽起來像是在地下。」

他們跟隨著聲音，在薄霧中朝山下走，經過一家家拉下鐵門的商店和石頭砌成的小巷。那首曲子沒有變大聲，卻也一直沒有停。

直到它停了下來。

不是漸漸消失，而是戛然而止。

他們發現自己正站在一家掛著金色字母招牌的酒吧前：The World’s End（世界盡頭）。

家慧抬頭看著。「這名字真奇怪。」

一鳴還來不及回答，酒吧的門便嘎吱一聲開了。一個男人跌跌撞撞地走出來——醉醺醺的，滿臉鬍子，全身濕透，手裡緊抓著一罐啤酒。

他看著這對一臉困惑的情侶。他以前見過這種表情。「你們兩個，」他含糊地說，瞇起了眼睛。「你們聽到風笛聲了，對吧？」

家慧謹慎地點點頭。「對……我們跟著那好聽的音樂走，直到它就在這附近停了。」

男人咯咯地笑了，眼神迷離。「是啊……那應該是那個小風笛手。」

「他是誰？」家慧問。

一鳴看起來有些不安。「沒關係啦。我們走吧。」但家慧沒有動。她想知道更多。

這正是那個喝醉的蘇格蘭男人所等待的提示。

「妳知道愛丁堡是蓋在它自己上面吧，對吧？一層又一層。很久以前，城堡裡的人發現皇家哩大道下面有隧道。他們怕有人會從後面偷溜進來——所以派了一個帶風笛的小伙子去探路。他邊走邊吹，這樣上面的人就能跟著他的聲音。」

他喝了一大口酒。

「唯一的問題是，音樂停了。差不多就在這裡。他們再也沒找到他。這件事嚇壞了山丘上的人，所以他們就把整個隧道都封了起來。說它對城堡有風險。」

家慧低下頭，輕聲念著：「阿彌陀佛……」

他點點頭，朝酒吧的招牌示意。「這裡——世界盡頭——他們以前就是這麼稱呼這座城門的。Netherbow Port，就在那裡。窮人從來沒錢付過路費，所以他們永遠離不開。在這裡出生，也在這裡死去。對他們來說，這裡就是了——世界的盡頭。」

「阿彌陀佛……」

一鳴用國語小聲嘀咕：「我們是不是不該聽這個鬼故事……」

「阿彌陀佛……」

當那個男人搖搖晃晃地走開時，他轉過身來。「讓逝者安息吧，姑娘。別去打擾那些安靜躺著的。」他消失在霧中。

「我還以為他不會停呢。走吧，回飯店。」一鳴牽起家慧的手，快步沿著皇家哩大道走回他們的飯店。

然後——風笛聲又響起了。微弱而穩定。這一次，音樂跟著他們。

後記

愛丁堡長久以來被稱為英國最常鬧鬼的城市——這並非空穴來風。在其蜿蜒的街道和喬治亞風格的建築底下，埋藏著一個被遺忘的世界。單是格雷修士墓園（Greyfriars Kirkyard）就據估計埋葬了十萬到五十萬人，但其中有墓碑的不到百分之一。屍體層層堆疊：瘟疫的受害者、被處決的誓約派信徒、以及安息在重複使用的墓穴和亂葬坑中的市民。有人說，至今土壤仍會隨著他們而鬆動。這座城市的地下拱廊、被遺忘的小巷，以及像是瑪莉金街（Mary King’s Close）和南橋（South Bridge）等鬧鬼地點，都讓人更加感覺到，愛丁堡不僅是建立在其歷史之上——它根本就活在歷史之中。

對家慧來說，這次經歷留下了一個無聲的印記。她事後不常提起，但那一夜的某些事——那段本該消失卻又回來的音樂——讓她的心神不得安寧。他們回到台北後，她去了萬華的龍山寺進行了一場「收驚」儀式——這是一種台灣的傳統儀式，用來在受到驚嚇或遇到鬼魅後淨化心靈。一位年長的儀式師傅拿著香在她身邊環繞，口中念念有詞地為她祈福，呼喚她的靈魂歸來，並掃除 lingering 的恐懼。在她的淨土宗信仰中，念誦「阿彌陀佛」是一種慈悲的表現，一種幫助迷失靈魂找到平靜的方式。她不知道那個風笛男孩是真實存在還是傳說。但有時候，當她在台北的公寓裡點香時，她還是會輕聲念著「阿彌陀佛」——不只是為了她的祖先，也為了一個在遙遠異鄉，在石頭街道下，仍在黑暗中行走，仍在吹奏他那孤單曲調的靈魂。

Vocabulary

1. ghost, 鬼 (guǐ)

2. haunted, 鬧鬼 (nàoguǐ)

3. dead, 逝者 (shìzhě)

4. buried, 埋藏 (máicáng)

5. cleanse the spirit, 淨化心靈 (jìnghuà xīnlíng)

6. incense, 香 (xiāng)

7. blessings, 祈福 (qífú)

8. drizzle, 細雨 (xìyǔ)

9. mist, 薄霧 (bówù)

10. tunnels, 隧道 (suìdào)

11. lost, 迷失 (míshī)

12. piper, 風笛手 (fēngdíshǒu)

13. bagpipes, 風笛 (fēngdí)

Scottish Dialect & Vernacular

1. aye (yes), 是啊 (shì a)

2. ye/yeh (you), 你們 (nǐmen)

3. ken (to know), 知道 (zhīdào)

4. lassie (young girl), 姑娘 (gūniang)

5. lad (young boy), 小伙子 (xiǎohuǒzi)

6. folk (people), 人 (rén)

7. wee (little), 小 (xiǎo)

8. pub, 酒吧 (jiǔbā)

9. coin, 錢 (qián)

10. close (alley), 小巷 (xiǎoxiàng)

11. kirkyard (cemetery), 墓園 (mùyuán)

Bilingual Idiom List

1. 戛然而止 (jiárán'érzhǐ) To stop abruptly; to cease suddenly (from English version: "abrupt silence")

2. 空穴來風 (kōngxuéláifēng) Not groundless; not without reason; Literally: "wind from an empty cave". (from English version: "not without reason")

3. 念念有詞 (niànniàn yǒucí) To murmur or mutter continuously, as in a prayer or chant (from English version: "murmured blessings")

4. 跌跌撞撞 (diēdiē zhuàngzhuàng) To stumble or stagger (from English version: "stumbled out")