​

“A reservoir is the ocean's cage.”

 

Rather than a hunt for mythical creatures dissolving into the mist, this is a spiritual ferrying, drifting along the quiet pull of the waterways. From the enchanted waters of Banff beneath the Rockies to the hidden reservoirs cradled by Hong Kong's hills, a butterfly assumes human form upon the surface, guiding us through the currents of impermanence.

 

The soul of the creature known as the "Banff Merman" lies in perpetual sleep within that human-stitched artifact: the Fiji Mermaid. A millennium of myth is, in truth, nothing more than the projection of human desire onto unknown frontiers.Yet, every inch of scale, every line of thread before me feels undeniably real—for what colonial merchants once crated and shipped to North America was never merely a carcass composed of monkey and fish, but an entire Oriental myth, conjured and held under the Western gaze.

 

And along these waters, I have heard whispers of another half-human, half-beast silhouette. It is an ancient memory of the "fish-folk," a marginal imagination belonging uniquely to the indigenous people of Hong Kong. As recorded in Deng Chun’s Lingnan Congshu, legends tracing back to the Eastern Jin dynasty speak of the "Lo Ting", figures flickering between the crests and troughs of the waves, neither wholly human nor beast, bartering their catch for rice with the shore-dwellers, occasionally vanishing back into the deep. It echoes the faded prophecy found in Volume 10 of the Biographies of Exemplary Monks (The Miraculous Cup-Drifter): "Eight spiritual stones shake the universe; meeting again, the coarse fur blurs the false with the true. Wandering without roots is a destiny carved by the heavens; whether man or beast, all comes from the heart."

 

These two imagined beings have met within the waters of some forgotten space-time. Their whispers cross epochs and dimensions, weaving a cosmic web beneath the surface. A drifting fate, the solitude of seclusion, and that invisible cage—these form their telepathic, shared lexicon. When we gaze at them through the lens of millennium-old lore, acting as observers from some distant dimension, what is it that we are deconstructing? Is it the projection of myth, or our own reflections? Where will this stream carry me? What kind of souls will I brush past along the way? What manner of murmurs will I be permitted to overhear? 

 

Perhaps, for all of it, I ought to build a digital database to commemorate our encounter.

​

 

「水塘是海的囚籠。」
 

與其說我在追尋那些隱入迷霧的神秘生物，不如說，這是一場順應水道流淌的精神涉渡。從落基山脈下班夫的精靈之湖，到香港山林間的隱世水塘，一隻蝴蝶在水面化成人形，引領我們走過無常。

 

被喚作「班夫人魚」的生物，其靈魂長眠於那具被人類拼接的斐濟人魚標本中。千年的神話，說到底是人類對未知的慾望投射。然而，眼前的每一寸鱗甲、每一道縫線卻又如此真實——當年被殖民商人裝船、販賣至北美的，從來不只是那具猴頭魚身的動物軀殼，還有整個被西方凝視、被幻化出的東方神話。

 

而在這片海域，我也聽聞過另一種半人半獸的側影。那是關於「魚人」的古老記憶，一種獨屬於香港原住民的邊緣想像。如鄧淳《嶺南叢述》所載，源自東晉時期的傳說裡，那在波濤中明滅的「盧亭」，似人非人，以魚與岸上的人交換稻米，有時會逃走。正如《高僧傳》卷十〈神異下．杯渡傳〉裡那斑駁的讖語：「八方靈石震乾坤，再逢亦毛假亂真。漂泊無根天註定，是人是獸皆由心。」

 

這兩種想像的生物，在某個時空的水裡相遇了。他們的低語跨越了時空與維度，在水底交織成宇宙般的網。漂泊的命運、隱居的孤寂，以及那座無形的囚籠，是他們心靈感應般的共同語言。當我們透過千年的傳說凝視他們，作為某個維度裡的觀察者，我們拆解的，究竟是神話的投射，還是我們自身的倒影？

我將隨這溪水漂流至何方？

沿途會與哪一種靈魂擦身而過？

能聆聽怎樣的喃喃自語？

 

也許，我都該為它創建一個數位的資料庫紀念我們的相遇。