hsly（爾狐）

                                                                             
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
我看過師父畫眉。
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
軟軟的眉筆尖上沾了一點黛青，細細的蛾眉勾勒得他的眼靈動極了，像是兩丸的寶珠，輕輕地一睞就讓人酥了半邊身子。
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
很多人都想見上師父一面，就只為了他的一眼。
                                                                               
                                                                               
                               
他在台上什麼都演，他的眉也常常在變。
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
刀馬旦吧，是英氣勃勃的窄短的眉；空閨怨女，就是短短的小柳葉眉，緊緊皺在一起的倚窗挑情；又或是貞素的女郎，盡情挑起她漂亮的細眉，叱喝登徒子的罵聲。
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
師父的眉總是比他的眼來的多變。
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
可其他人不知道；他們笑我傻，不懂得欣賞師父的眼。
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
師父也從來不說那些人是怎麼說他的眼。
                                                                               
                                                                               
                               
他只靜靜的在已經有些糊了的銅鏡前，細細地瞄著他的眉。
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
抬著手，挽住袖，我捧著妝盒站在一邊，看著師父小心的剃眉、蘸墨，彎著腰貼在鏡前，畫他的眉。
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
邊畫，邊細細的教我什麼時候，該畫什麼眉。
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
刀馬旦的時候那眉就需要窄短些，看上去爽利，有英氣；深閨怨女的時候畫著柳葉形的眉就顯得有些愁苦；細長的眉配著素淨的臉，看著人心癢癢。
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
我一一的應了，慢慢地學了，卻總是覺得這世上無論誰來畫眉，總沒有師父好看。
                                                                               
                                                                               
                         
我一直都只看著師父畫眉的。
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
可師父卻漸漸地不再畫眉。
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
他收了手，壓住我的肩膀，彎著腰側過身子，一手持著銅鏡，一手握住妝盒。
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
師父教我畫眉，自己卻不肯再畫眉了。
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
我從新打磨起來，亮堂地很的鏡中看著師父微微露著毛頭的眉骨，上頭是乾淨的，一點墨星子都不沾的樣子，忽然很有些衝動。
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
我想替師父畫眉。

                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
他的眉，合該是細細的、長長的，襯的眼睛深邃又悠遠的。
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
我忍了又忍，終於忍不住拿起眉筆，一彎，送到了師父面前。
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
「師父，畫個眉吧。」我央求著。
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
師父卻只一笑，擋著手，「畫什麼眉。」
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
然後他拍了拍我的頭，輕聲地說：「眉呀……不能亂畫的。」
                                                                               
                 
                                                                              
從此我再沒見過師父畫眉了。
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
他依然給自己施朱傅粉，依然笑得雅緻風流。
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
可他的眉再也沒畫過。
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
他會在自己的眉骨上用手指筆劃著、指點我什麼時候該畫什麼樣的眉，唱戲的時候、下戲的時候、宴賓客的時候、風流的時候、踏青的時候……
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
我仍然想看師父畫眉……我想替師父畫眉。
                                                                               
                                                                               
                         
缺了黛青色的眉，就像一張畫的過多留白，破壞了師父的美。
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
我只想替師父畫眉，當我也開始教著別人什麼時候該畫什麼眉的時候，我心裡還是不停的轉著這個念頭。
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
那細細的眼尾的紋，該畫上什麼眉才能讓師父的眼看著年輕些、那疲倦的神色上，該畫上什麼眉才能讓師父看著精神些、愁苦的時候，畫了什麼眉會讓師父從鏡裡看到自己也能笑出來。
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
後來，很久很久以後的後來，我終於替師父畫上了眉。
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
師父閉著眼睛，沉沉地躺在牀上，讓我替他畫眉。
                                             
                                                                               
                                                                               
他不再笑著，拿手擋我，也不再拍著我的頭，讓我別淘氣想拿筆畫他的眉。
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
我慢慢地調著墨，加了些水，可這樣黛色就會淡，讓師父顯得不精神；若不加這麼些水，又顯得太過老氣沈重，我想師父看起來年輕些、精神些、神采飛揚些，不若加些別的顏色吧……我想了又想，手上的墨調了又倒，倒了又調。
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
最後，還是調上了我最愛的墨色。
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
挽住袖、提起手，就像師父從前彎著腰在鏡前畫自己的眉的時候一樣。
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
                      
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
                                                                               
我彎下腰，細細的，蘸了墨，替師父畫第一次的、最後一次的眉。