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《山林的孩子·若崽》— 【虎姑婆二部曲】

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🎶 Produced by Gin鯨魚 ===================== 🎼 Lyrics : Gin鯨魚 with Chat GPT 🎵 Music & Arrangement: SUNO ver.5 🎧 Genre Styling:【cinematic】【Taiwanese folk】【ambient】 ===================== ✴️《虎姑婆》系列歌曲: 🐯《虎姑婆》— 起源與襲來 ➡️https://suno.com/s/bHi95sLrg69ehJRr 🐯《厄火之夜》— 【虎姑婆三部曲】(終章) ➡️https://suno.com/s/7ibv2EGTeC2XpRc3 🐯《虎姑婆》專輯 ➡️https://suno.com/playlist/c60a3567-0cf4-4648-9bcb-3dc3c47ca060 ===================== 🐯 《山林的孩子·若崽》 若崽出生在一個被迷信壟罩的山村。 那年接連發生疾病、山洪、莊稼歉收, 村民便把罪全部推到新生的女孩身上。 「女胎帶厄。」 「越養越衰。」 在壓力、恐懼與族長的逼迫下, 父母忍痛在一個無月的夜裡, 將若崽放進竹籃裡推向深山。 竹籃越滑越遠, 越滑越黑, 唯有微弱的哭聲在竹林間搖晃。 就在那夜—— 消失許久的虎姑婆循著哭聲而來。 她本是多年以前的村婦, 在飢荒與孤獨的折磨下獸化, 記憶支離破碎, 僅剩下對「孩子哭聲」的本能反應。 她掀開竹籃, 獠牙原本張開, 準備吞噬眼前的嬰兒。 然而—— 嬰兒沒有哭,只是用清亮的眼睛看著她。 還伸出小手抓住她的虎紋手指。 那一刻, 虎姑婆胸口深處某塊早已死去的記憶突然刺痛。 那些曾經收養孤兒、曾經煮粥、曾經抱孩子入眠的片段 像冬天的火星一樣被重新點亮。 她收回獠牙。 嘴硬地說: 「我只是……暫時養著妳。」 但從那天起,若崽便成了她生命裡唯一的光。 若崽在山林裡一天天長大, 從咿呀學步到清脆笑聲, 從跌倒哭泣到學會抓住婆婆的尾巴站穩。 她叫她—— 「婆婆。」 這一聲, 比任何咒語、任何恨意都更深地打動了虎姑婆。 若崽不怕她,不嫌她怪、也不避她的獠牙。 她會替虎姑婆整理頭髮、 在她耳邊別一朵白花、 睡覺時摟著她粗糙的手臂。 而虎姑婆的外貌也隨之改變—— 眼神變柔、牙變鈍、聲音不再像夜裡的咆哮。 若崽幫她找回了「像人」的理由。 也讓她重新記起: 她曾經,是個女人; 曾經,也是能當娘的人。 山林的每一夜、每一頓野果、每一聲笑, 都讓她在黑暗中慢慢復活。 某夜,若崽貼在她胸口輕聲說: 「婆婆,我知道妳不是我真正的娘…… 可是我的心……一直都把妳當娘。」 虎姑婆愣住。 沉默像落在雪上的淚,無聲卻滾燙。 她不敢回答, 怕自己的聲音一出來就會全然崩潰。 但她伸手抱住了若崽。 那是她百年來最像「人」的一刻。 然而山下的村民開始注意到山裡的奇怪動靜: 有女孩的影子在樹間跑 山林的野果被採光 夜裡傳出溫柔又怪異的對話聲 迷信再次被點燃。 「那是當年的女厄!」 「一定是妖怪養著她!」 懼怕讓村民逐漸集結, 火把、法器、獵矛—— 悄悄往山上靠近。 而虎姑婆抱著若崽沉沉睡去, 完全不知道黑暗之外的世界 正在逼近她們的平靜。 ===================== 🐯 **“The Child of the Mountain · Ruozai” (English Narrative Adaptation)** Ruozai was born in a mountain village swallowed by old superstitions. The year she arrived, sickness, floods, and failing crops struck one after another— and the villagers placed all the blame on the newborn girl. “Girls bring misfortune.” “Raise her, and the whole house will fall.” Crushed by fear and pressured by their elders, her parents made an impossible choice. On a moonless night, they placed Ruozai in a bamboo basket and pushed her toward the depths of the forest. The basket slid farther… and darker… until only her faint cries trembled through the bamboo. That same night, the long-vanished Tiger Aunt—once a villager herself— followed the sound. Before she became a “monster,” she was a woman worn down by famine and solitude, her memories shattered, instincts twisted, remembering only the cry of children she once cared for. She lifted the basket. Her fangs were ready— the child should have been her next meal. But the baby didn’t cry. She only looked up with clear, unwavering eyes and reached for Tiger Aunt’s striped finger. In that instant, something long dead inside the old woman shuddered awake: the memory of holding orphans, cooking porridge, rocking children to sleep. Small, living warmth—like a spark in winter. She pulled her fangs back and muttered, trying to sound cold: “I’m only… keeping you for now.” But from that moment on, Ruozai became her only light. Ruozai grew up in the mountains— from babbling steps to ringing laughter, from falling and crying to learning how to stand by holding onto Tiger Aunt’s tail. She called her— “Grandma.” And that one word struck deeper than any curse or hatred Tiger Aunt had ever faced. Ruozai never feared her. She brushed her hair, tucked flowers behind her ear, and fell asleep holding her rough, clawed arm. Slowly, the old woman changed— her eyes softened, her fangs dulled, her voice no longer the growl that haunted the night. Ruozai gave her a reason to feel human again. To remember the woman she once was… and the mother she could have been. Each shared meal, each laugh, each quiet night beneath the bamboo stitched her back together. One evening, Ruozai whispered against her chest: “Grandma… I know you’re not my real mother… but in my heart… you always were.” Tiger Aunt froze. Her silence felt like warm tears falling on snow— soundless but burning. She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Her voice would have broken. Instead, she held Ruozai tightly— the most human she had been in a hundred years. But down in the village, whispers had begun. Strange shadows in the forest. Fruits disappearing. Soft, uncanny voices in the night. Fear rekindled old superstition. “That’s the cursed girl!” “The demon woman must be raising her!” Torches, charms, and spears quietly gathered at the foot of the mountain. Meanwhile, Tiger Aunt slept peacefully with Ruozai in her arms— unaware that the world outside the dark was closing in on the only peace they had ever known. ===================== 【Spoken Intro】 山裡很冷…… 直到那天妳抓住我的指爪。 那一瞬,我才記起—— 我曾經,也是人。 【Verse 1】 竹林間 妳的小手牽著我長大 若崽啊 妳的笑像晨光落進我心啊 我說妳吵 卻總是接住妳的跌倒 妳抬頭看我 彷彿我不是妖,而是妳的依靠 【Pre-Chorus】 妳替我別的白花 輕得像一句原諒 原來怪物的心 也能被孩子融化 【Chorus】 若崽啊—— 妳叫我婆婆,我卻被叫得心都軟了 不是血緣,卻比血更深刻 妳的笑把山霧照亮 帶我從黑暗走回像人的模樣 【Verse 2】 夜裡妳睡在我臂彎 呼吸輕得像搖籃 溪水映著我粗糙的臉 卻被妳一句「婆婆很好看」 抹去了年深月久的孤單 【Pre-Chorus 2】 妳說妳知道我不是妳真正的娘 可心裡……一直這樣想 我不敢回答 怕沉默會裂出新的傷 【Chorus 2】 若崽啊—— 妳讓我想起我曾經的自己 讓夜變溫柔 讓山風有了家的氣息 我只會抓、會咬、會恨 如今卻只想守住妳的笑聲 【Bridge】 妳的小手抓著我 像抓住整座山 這份牽絆不需言語 只要妳在 我就不再是妖 【Final Chorus】 若崽啊—— 妳救了我,也填滿我百年的空洞 妳的一聲「婆婆」 比世上所有陽光都溫暖得多 若崽啊—— 只要妳肯叫我一聲 這山林……就成了我們兩人的家 【Outro|柔聲】 若崽…… 妳是婆婆這輩子 唯一撿回的光。 ===================== 【Spoken Intro】 The mountains were so cold… until the day you held onto my clawed fingertip. In that moment, I remembered— I once… was human too. 【Verse 1】 In the bamboo woods, your tiny hand grew up holding mine. Ruozai, your smile shines like morning light upon my heart. I call you noisy, yet I’m always there to catch your fall. You look up at me— as if I’m not a monster, but the one you lean on. 【Pre-Chorus】 You tucked a white flower behind my ear, light as a whispered forgiveness. I never knew a monster’s heart could melt in the hands of a child. 【Chorus】 Ruozai— You call me “Grandma,” and my whole heart softens. No blood between us, yet deeper than blood. Your smile clears the mountain mist and leads me out of darkness, back toward being human. 【Verse 2】 At night you sleep curled in my arms, your breathing gentle as a cradle song. The stream reflects my rough old face, yet your “Grandma, you look pretty” wipes away a lifetime of loneliness. 【Pre-Chorus 2】 You said you know I’m not your true-born mother, but in your heart… I’ve always been. I dare not answer— silence might crack open wounds I’ve long buried. 【Chorus 2】 Ruozai— You remind me of who I used to be. You turn the night soft, give the mountain wind the feeling of home. I once only knew how to claw, to bite, to hate… but now all I want is to protect the sound of your laughter. 【Bridge】 Your small hand holding mine— it feels like you’re holding the whole mountain. This bond needs no words. As long as you’re here, I am no longer a monster. 【Final Chorus】 Ruozai— You saved me, filled the emptiness of a hundred lonely years. One single “Grandma” from you is warmer than all the sunlight in this world. Ruozai— If you’ll keep calling me that, these mountains… will be our home forever. 【Outro|Soft】 Ruozai… you are the one light your Grandma ever back in her life.