在《山海經》的神話體系中，燭龍是一種掌控晝夜的古老神祇，睜眼為晝，閉眼為夜。牠象徵宇宙運行的節律，體現古人對時間與天地秩序的深刻理解。
In the mythic system of the Shan Hai Jing, Zhulong is an ancient deity who governs the cycle of day and night, opening its eyes to bring daylight and closing them to summon darkness. It represents cosmic rhythm and humanity’s early understanding of time and order.
中文
天地尚處混沌之時，光與暗尚未分離，萬物沉於無形之中。北方極寒之地，有一座不見日月的幽谷，終年被陰影覆蓋。就在那片無光之境，沉睡著一條巨龍，牠的身軀綿延無盡，盤繞山川，呼吸之間風雪湧動。牠便是燭龍。燭龍並非尋常之龍，牠無需依賴日月運行，因為牠本身即為光與暗的源頭。傳說當牠睜開雙眼，天地瞬間明亮，萬物顯形；當牠閉上雙眼，世界便沉入黑暗，萬籟俱寂。牠的呼吸化為風，吐息凝為雲，整個天地的變化皆與其息息相關。某日，一位行者誤入北境，歷經風雪與黑暗，最終踏入那幽谷之中。四周無聲無息，時間彷彿停滯。他在黑暗中前行，忽然感到一股龐大的氣息在前方凝聚。就在他停下腳步之際，一道微弱的紅光在遠處亮起，如火種般搖曳。那光逐漸擴大，化為兩道巨大的光芒——燭龍睜開了雙眼。瞬間，天地被照亮，山川輪廓清晰可見，空氣中充滿了溫暖與力量。行者震驚地站立，無法言語。那雙眼不帶情緒，卻蘊含無盡的威嚴與古老的智慧。燭龍注視著他，並未動怒，也未展現敵意，彷彿只是觀察一個誤入時序之外的存在。行者在那一刻感受到時間的流動，彷彿過去與未來同時存在。他看見白晝與黑夜交替，看見四季輪轉，看見萬物生滅。當燭龍再次閉上雙眼，世界瞬間陷入黑暗，那些景象也隨之消散。行者驚覺自身仍站在原地，卻已無法分辨過了多久。他明白，自己所見並非幻象，而是天地本源的運行。當他離開幽谷，重返人間時，天空正值黎明。光線從地平線升起，與黑暗交替，如同呼應燭龍的存在。自此之後，關於燭龍的傳說被記錄下來，成為對時間與宇宙運行的象徵。有人說牠仍沉睡於北方，有人說牠從未沉睡，只是靜靜維持著世界的節律。無論如何，當晝夜更替之際，人們仰望天空，或許正是燭龍在無聲之中睜眼與閉眼，讓光與暗交織成這個世界的脈動。
English Version
In the earliest state of existence, before light and darkness had taken form, the world lay suspended in an endless, indistinct void. In the far northern reaches, beyond the grasp of ordinary time, there existed a valley untouched by sun or moon. It was there that Zhulong rested—a being of immense scale, its body stretching across the unseen landscape, its presence shaping the very fabric of reality. Zhulong was not bound to celestial cycles; it defined them. When its eyes opened, light emerged, revealing form and motion. When they closed, darkness followed, returning the world to silence. Its breath stirred winds, and its essence governed the rhythm of existence itself. One traveler, driven by curiosity or fate, ventured into this frozen expanse. After enduring relentless cold and disorientation, he entered the valley where all sound seemed to disappear. There was no sense of time, no indication of direction—only stillness. Then, in the distance, a faint glow appeared. It flickered like a distant ember before expanding into something vast. Two immense lights formed in the darkness—eyes opening. In an instant, the world was illuminated. The mountains, the sky, even the air itself took on clarity and presence. The traveler stood frozen, overwhelmed by what he witnessed. The being before him did not move aggressively, nor did it acknowledge him in any familiar way. Its gaze was beyond emotion, carrying an ancient awareness that transcended human understanding. As the traveler looked on, he began to perceive something impossible. Time unfolded around him—not in a straight line, but as a continuous flow. He saw days turning into nights, seasons shifting, life emerging and fading. It was as though he had stepped outside the boundaries of existence and glimpsed the mechanism behind it. Then, just as suddenly, the eyes closed. Darkness returned, and the vision vanished. The traveler found himself once again in silence, uncertain of how much time had passed. When he finally left the valley and returned to the world he knew, dawn was breaking. Light spread slowly across the horizon, pushing away the night. From that moment on, he understood that what he had witnessed was not a dream, but a truth hidden beyond ordinary perception. The legend of Zhulong endured, passed down through generations as a symbol of cosmic balance. Some believe it still resides in the northern reaches, maintaining the cycle of light and darkness. Others think it exists beyond place entirely, an unseen force guiding the passage of time. Yet whenever day turns to night and night yields to day, there remains the quiet possibility that somewhere beyond sight, Zhulong continues its silent vigil, opening and closing its eyes to shape the rhythm of the world.
