摘要："滴-滴-滴——咕-咕-咕——"窗外的北红尾鸲又在唱歌了。辰辰托着腮帮子，眼睛一眨不眨地盯着教室窗外那棵大榕树。阳光透过树叶的缝隙洒下来，在课桌上投下斑驳的光影，就像一幅会跳舞的画。

第二章 寻找会说故事的古树

"滴-滴-滴——咕-咕-咕——"窗外的北红尾鸲又在唱歌了。辰辰托着腮帮子，眼睛一眨不眨地盯着教室窗外那棵大榕树。阳光透过树叶的缝隙洒下来，在课桌上投下斑驳的光影，就像一幅会跳舞的画。

"梧桐山的深处，有一棵千年古树。年轮里装满了故事，每天给鸟儿们讲述......"北红尾鸲的歌声仿佛带着魔力，辰辰的思绪早已飘到了那座云雾缭绕的大山深处。

"辰辰同学！"王老师的声音突然在耳边炸响，吓得辰辰差点从椅子上跳起来。王老师的手指正敲着他的课桌，"你在想什么呢？这个问题你来回答。"

辰辰慌慌张张地站起来，脸颊发烫。他刚才完全没听见老师问了什么，只能支支吾吾地说："我、我在想一个问题......"

"哦？什么问题比课堂内容还重要？"王老师推了推眼镜，镜片后的眼睛闪着好奇的光。

"我在想......有人能听懂鸟语，您信不信？"辰辰脱口而出，随即就后悔了。教室里立刻爆发出一阵哄笑。

王老师却出人意料地没有生气，反而露出若有所思的表情："鸟语？古时候确实有个叫公冶长的人，是孔子的学生，据说他能听懂鸟说话。"

"真的吗？"辰辰眼睛一亮，指着窗外，"那您知道那只北红尾鸲在唱什么吗？"

王老师笑着摇摇头："我可没那个本事。不过......"她突然话锋一转，"明天就是五一假期了，我给大家布置一个特别的任务——搜集一个关于深圳地名的故事。比如大鹏湾的来历，或者笔架山为什么叫笔架山。"

放学铃一响，辰辰就像离弦的箭一样冲出了教室。他一路小跑回家，书包在背后一颠一颠的。

"妈妈！梧桐山为什么叫梧桐山啊？"辰辰刚踏进家门就大声问道。

厨房里传来锅铲碰撞的声音和妈妈的回应："我不知道啊，问你爸爸去。他是植物专家。"

辰辰三步并作两步跑上二楼，猛地推开爸爸书房的门。爸爸正戴着眼镜研究一本厚厚的植物图鉴，被突如其来的动静吓了一跳。

"老爸！梧桐山为什么叫梧桐山？山里是不是有一棵千年梧桐？"辰辰连珠炮似的发问。

爸爸摘下眼镜，揉了揉鼻梁："怎么突然对这个感兴趣？"他思索了一下，"千年梧桐我没听说过，不过梧桐山确实有一棵千年篦齿苏铁，是国家一级保护植物。至于山的名字由来嘛......"爸爸突然顿住了，"咦，我还真被问住了。"

"古树会告诉我的！"辰辰神秘兮兮地说，眼睛亮得像星星。

爸爸笑着摇摇头，只当儿子又有了什么天马行空的想象："好吧，明天我正好要去梧桐山考察，带你一起去。"

第二天清晨，天刚蒙蒙亮，父子俩就出发了。四月的梧桐山正值毛棉杜鹃盛开的季节，粉红色的花朵如云霞般铺满山坡，远远望去，整座山仿佛披上了一件华丽的锦袍

"哇！"辰辰忍不住惊叹，但很快又皱起眉头，"爸爸，古树在哪里啊？还要走多久？"

爸爸背着装满工具的背包，步伐稳健："快了快了，就在前面那个山坳里。"

这时，一只褐翅鸦鹃从他们头顶掠过，发出清脆的鸣叫："翻过一道山，再走一面坡，古树就在那山窝～"

辰辰一听，立刻像泄了气的皮球一样坐在地上："天哪！还要翻山越岭啊？"

爸爸惊讶地回头："怎么了？累了吗？"

"那只鸟说'翻过一道山，再走一面坡，古树就在那山窝'，这也太远了吧！"辰辰撅着嘴说。

爸爸哈哈大笑，眼角的皱纹舒展开来："我儿子什么时候会编这么押韵的句子了？"他从背包里拿出水壶和巧克力，"来，补充点能量。要不要爸爸背你一段？"

"才不要！"辰辰一下子跳起来，三两口吞下巧克力，"我可是男子汉！"说完就雄赳赳气昂昂地迈开步子，逗得爸爸直乐。

经过近两小时的跋涉，他们终于到达了一个被群山环抱的小山窝。这里幽静清凉，空气中弥漫着泥土和植物的清香。在中央空地上，矗立着一棵形态奇特的古树——它的树干粗壮扭曲，表皮布满了岁月的沟壑，顶端伸展着羽状的大叶子，在阳光下泛着油亮的光泽。

"这就是千年篦齿苏铁，"爸爸轻声说，仿佛怕惊扰了这位古老的居民，"它已经在这里生长了一千多年，见证了无数历史变迁。"

辰辰仰头望着这棵巍然屹立的古树，心跳加速。他拉了拉爸爸的衣角："爸爸，你能让我单独和古树待一会儿吗？我想...想仔细观察它。"

爸爸犹豫了一下，看了看手表："好吧，我去附近查看几棵标记过的树。记住，不要乱跑，有事情立刻用手表联系我。"

等爸爸走远后，辰辰小心翼翼地靠近古树。他深吸一口气，轻轻抚摸着树皮上深深的纹路，小声问道："树爷爷，您能告诉我梧桐山为什么叫梧桐山吗？"

一阵微风拂过，古树的叶子沙沙作响。辰辰惊讶地发现，那声音渐渐变成了一个苍老而温和的声音："呵呵呵，多少年没有人类孩子来问我这个问题了……"

Chapter 2: In Search of the Storytelling Ancient Tree

"Tweet-tweet—coo-coo—" The Daurian redstart outside the window sang its melody again. Chenchen rested his chin in his hands, utterly transfixed by the banyan tree beyond the classroom window. Sunlight filtered through its leaves, casting dancing shadows on his desk like living brushstrokes.

"Deep in Wutong Mountain grows an ancient tree,

Its rings hold countless stories, shared with birds like me..."

The redstart's song seemed enchanted, carrying Chenchen's imagination straight into the misty peaks.

"Chenchen!" Teacher Wang's voice startled him so badly he nearly toppled from his chair. Her finger tapped his desk. "What has you so distracted? Answer this question."

Flushing crimson, Chenchen scrambled to his feet. He hadn't heard the question at all. "I—I was thinking about something..."

"Oh? Something more important than our lesson?" Teacher Wang adjusted her glasses, eyes glinting behind the lenses.

"I was wondering... do you believe some people can understand bird language?" The words tumbled out before he could stop them. The class erupted in giggles.

To everyone's surprise, Teacher Wang didn't scold him. "Bird language? Ancient texts mention Gongye Chang, a disciple of Confucius who supposedly understood birds."

"Really?" Chenchen's eyes lit up as he pointed outside. "Then do you know what that redstart is singing?"

Teacher Wang chuckled. "I don't have that gift. But..." She changed tack abruptly. "Tomorrow begins Labor Day break. Your special assignment: research a Shenzhen place-name story. Like how Dapeng Bay got its name, or why Bijia Mountain looks like a writing-brush holder."

When the bell rang, Chenchen shot out like an arrow. His backpack bounced wildly as he sprinted home.

"Mom! Why is Wutong Mountain called Wutong Mountain?" he burst out the moment he crossed the threshold.

The clatter of wok spatulas answered from the kitchen. "Ask your father—he's the plant expert!"

Chenchen took the stairs two at a time, flinging open Dad's study door. His father jumped, nearly dropping the hefty botanical atlas in his hands.

"Dad! Is there a thousand-year-old phoenix tree on Wutong Mountain?"

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Dad removed his glasses. "Why the sudden interest? There's no phoenix tree, but we do have a millennium-old Cycas pectinata—a national protected species. As for the mountain's name..." He paused, stumped. "Huh. I actually don't know."

"The ancient tree will tell me!" Chenchen declared, eyes sparkling.

Dad laughed, dismissing this as another of his son's whims. "Alright then. I'm surveying Wutong Mountain tomorrow—you can tag along."

At dawn, father and son set out. April clothed Wutong Mountain in blooming Rhododendron moulmainense, their pink blossoms draping the slopes like embroidered silk.

"Wow!" Chenchen gasped—then promptly frowned. "Dad, where's the ancient tree? How much farther?"

"Almost there," Dad assured him, adjusting his pack.

Just then, a crow pheasant swooped overhead, calling clearly:

"Cross one hill, climb one slope,

The ancient tree waits in the grove!"

Chenchen plopped onto the trail. "Ugh! More climbing?"

Dad turned, amused. "Since when does my son compose rhyming couplets?" He produced a water bottle and chocolate. "Fuel up. Need a piggyback ride?"

"No way!" Chenchen devoured the chocolate and marched ahead. "I'm a big kid now!"

After two hours, they reached a secluded hollow cradled by peaks. At its center stood a magnificent oddity—a tree with a gnarled trunk etched by centuries, its crown of glossy fronds shimmering in the light.

"This is the thousand-year-old Cycas pectinata," Dad whispered reverently. "It's witnessed dynasties rise and fall."

Chenchen's pulse quickened. Tugging Dad's sleeve, he whispered, "Can I... talk to it alone?"

After a hesitant glance at his watch, Dad nodded. "Stay put. Call me if anything happens."

Once alone, Chenchen approached the ancient sentinel. Tracing its bark's deep grooves, he breathed, "Grandfather Tree... why is this mountain called Wutong?"

A breeze stirred the fronds. Gradually, the rustling coalesced into a voice as old as the hills:

"Hehehe... How many years since a child last asked me this..."

Key Features:

Rhythmic Flow - Maintains the Chinese version's lyrical quality with adapted rhymes ("grove"/"slope")

Cultural Bridges - Keeps Confucian reference while adding clarity for Western readers

Scientific Precision - Uses Latin name Cycas pectinata for authenticity

Childlike Wonder - Preserves Chenchen's endearing curiosity and humor

Would you like any section refined further? The translation balances cultural fidelity with global readability, keeping the magic of the original while ensuring natural English flow.

来源：小说讲坛