樵夫指路 The Woodcutter Points the Way
猴王道:「你家既與神仙相鄰,何不從他修行?學得個不老之方,卻不是好?」樵夫道:「我一生命苦:自幼蒙父母養育至八九歲,才知人事,不幸父喪,母親居孀。再無兄弟姊妹,只我一人,沒奈何,早晚侍奉。如今母老,一發不敢拋離。卻又田園荒蕪,衣食不足,只得斫兩束柴薪,挑向市廛之間,貨幾文錢,糴幾升米,自炊自造,安排些茶飯,供養老母。所以不能修行。」猴王道:「據你說起來,乃是一個行孝的君子,向後必有好處。但望你指與我那神仙住處,卻好拜訪去也。」樵夫道:「不遠,不遠。此山叫做靈臺方寸山,山中有座斜月三星洞,那洞中有一個神仙,稱名須菩提祖師。那祖師出去的徒弟,也不計其數,見今還有三四十人從他修行。你順那條小路兒,向南行七八里遠近,即是他家了。」猴王用手扯住樵夫道:「老兄,你便同我去去,若還得了好處,決不忘你指引之恩。」樵夫道:「你這漢子甚不通變,我方才這般與你說了,你還不省?假若我與你去了,卻不誤了我的生意?老母何人奉養?我要斫柴,你自去,你自去。」猴王道:「你家既与神仙相邻,何不从他修行?学得个不老之方,却不是好?」樵夫道:「我一生命苦:自幼蒙父母养育至八九岁,才知人事,不幸父丧,母亲居孀。再无兄弟姊妹,只我一人,没奈何,早晚侍奉。如今母老,一发不敢抛离。却又田园荒芜,衣食不足,只得斫两束柴薪,挑向市廛之间,货几文钱,籴几升米,自炊自造,安排些茶饭,供养老母。所以不能修行。」猴王道:「据你说起来,乃是一个行孝的君子,向后必有好处。但望你指与我那神仙住处,却好拜访去也。」樵夫道:「不远,不远。此山叫做灵台方寸山,山中有座斜月三星洞,那洞中有一个神仙,称名须菩提祖师。那祖师出去的徒弟,也不计其数,见今还有三四十人从他修行。你顺那条小路儿,向南行七八里远近,即是他家了。」猴王用手扯住樵夫道:「老兄,你便同我去去,若还得了好处,决不忘你指引之恩。」樵夫道:「你这汉子甚不通变,我方才这般与你说了,你还不省?假若我与你去了,却不误了我的生意?老母何人奉养?我要斫柴,你自去,你自去。」
逐句解 Line by line
The Monkey King said: 'Since your home neighbours an immortal's, why not follow him in cultivation? Learn a recipe for ageless life — wouldn't that be fine?'
何不從他修行 ('why not follow him in cultivation?'; 修行, 行 here xíng, the religious 'to practise, to cultivate'). The monkey, hearing of an immortal next door, urges the woodcutter to seek what he himself seeks — a 不老之方, a 'recipe for ageless life.'
The woodcutter said: 'My life has been a hard one. From childhood my parents raised me, and by eight or nine I knew something of the world;
蒙父母養育 ('was favoured with my parents' rearing'; 蒙 méng, to receive a kindness). 才知人事 ('only then knew the ways of the world'; 才 cái, 'only then').
then, to my grief, my father died, and my mother was left a widow. I have no brothers or sisters, only myself, and no help for it — I must wait on her morning and night.
父喪 reads 喪 as sàng ('to lose [a parent], be bereaved'), not sāng ('a funeral'); 母親居孀 ('my mother kept her widowhood'; 孀 shuāng, a widow). 沒奈何 is a set phrase, 'there was nothing for it'; 早晚侍奉 ('to wait upon her morning and evening'; 侍 shì, to attend) — the burden of an only child.
Now my mother is old, and all the more I dare not leave her. Besides, the fields lie waste and we have not enough to eat and wear,
一發不敢拋離 — '[I] all the more dare not leave her' (一發, here yì fā, 'all the more, the more so'; 拋 pāo, to abandon). 田園荒蕪 ('the fields and gardens run to waste'; 蕪 wú, overgrown).
so I can only cut a couple of bundles of firewood, carry them to the market, sell them for a few coppers, and buy a few shēng of rice.
斫兩束柴薪 ('cut a couple of bundles of firewood'; 斫 zhuó, to chop). He 挑 (tiāo, carries on a shoulder-pole) them to the 市廛 (market quarter), 貨 (huò, 'sells') them for a few 文 (coppers), and 糴 (dí, 'buys in grain') a few 升 (shēng, a dry measure of volume, kept untranslated) of rice. The vocabulary is exact about a poor man's economy.
I cook and keep house myself, set out a little food, and support my old mother — that is why I cannot cultivate.'
自炊自造 ('cooks and prepares for himself'; 炊 chuī). 供養老母 ('supports his old mother'; 供 here gòng, 4th tone, 'to provide for'). His filial duty, not any lack of opportunity, is what keeps him from the Way.
The Monkey King said: 'From what you tell me, you are a gentleman of filial conduct, and there will surely be a reward for you hereafter.
行孝的君子 ('a gentleman who practises filial piety'; 行 here xíng, 'to practise,' 君子 the Confucian 'gentleman,' 子 the full tone zǐ). The monkey's praise — 向後必有好處 ('hereafter there will surely be good fortune') — frames filial duty as itself meritorious, a Confucian note within the Daoist quest.
But I beg you only to point me to where that immortal lives, so that I may go and call on him.'
但望你指與我那神仙住處 ('I only beg you to point me to the immortal's dwelling'; 望 wàng, 'to hope,' the 維基文庫 reading, against 求 'to beg' elsewhere; 指與, 'to point out for').
The woodcutter said: 'It's not far, not far. This mountain is called the Mountain of the Numinous Terrace and the Square Inch;
靈臺方寸山 ('the Mountain of the Numinous Terrace and the Square Inch') is an allegorical name: both 靈臺 ('numinous terrace,' a term from the Zhuangzi) and 方寸 ('square inch') are old metaphors for the heart-mind. The master's mountain is, in effect, the seeker's own heart.
in the mountain is a cave called the Cave of the Slanting Moon and Three Stars, and in that cave is an immortal whose name is Patriarch Subodhi.
斜月三星洞 ('the Cave of the Slanting Moon and Three Stars') continues the riddle: the 'slanting moon' is the curved stroke and the 'three stars' the three dots of the graph 心 ('heart') — the cave-name spells out 'heart.' 須菩提祖師 (Patriarch Subodhi) takes his name from Subhūti, a disciple of the Buddha — a Daoist immortal bearing a Buddhist name, in keeping with the novel's syncretism.
The disciples who have gone forth from that patriarch are beyond counting, and even now there are some thirty or forty cultivating under him.
出去的徒弟,也不計其數 ('the disciples who have left are beyond counting'; 不 in its bú sandhi before the falling tone of 計). 見今 ('at present') some thirty or forty remain — the master is real, established, and accessible.
Follow that little path, go south seven or eight li or so, and you'll be at his home.'
你順那條小路兒 ('follow that little path'; 順 shùn, to go along). 七八里 ('seven or eight li,' 里 the Chinese mile of about half a kilometre, kept untranslated; 行 here xíng, 'to go') — the immortal lives close at hand.
The Monkey King took the woodcutter by the hand: 'Elder brother, come along with me —
用手扯住 ('took hold of him by the hand'; 扯 chě). The monkey calls the woodcutter 老兄 ('elder brother') and urges 同我去去 ('come along with me') — the doubled 去去 a colloquial, coaxing 'do come.'
if I do gain some benefit, I'll never forget your kindness in showing me the way.'
決不忘你指引之恩 ('I'll never forget your kindness in guiding me'; 決 'surely,' 不 in its bú sandhi before the falling tone of 忘). 指引之恩 — the 'kindness of being shown the way' is a real debt in the novel's moral economy.
The woodcutter said: 'What an unbending fellow you are! I've just told you all this, and still you don't understand?
甚不通變 ('how inflexible you are'; 通變, 'adaptable, able to take a hint'). 你還不省 ('still you don't get it'; 省 xǐng, to be aware) — the woodcutter is exasperated; he has just explained why he cannot go.
If I went off with you, wouldn't it ruin my livelihood? And who would support my old mother?
卻不誤了我的生意 ('wouldn't it ruin my livelihood'; 不 in its bú sandhi before the falling tone of 誤; 生意 here 'one's living, one's trade'). 老母何人奉養 ('who would support my old mother?') — his duty answers the monkey's plea.
I have wood to cut — go on by yourself, go on by yourself.'
我要斫柴,你自去,你自去 ('I have wood to cut — off you go, off you go'; 斫 zhuó again, the 維基文庫 verb for chopping, against 砍 elsewhere). With that the woodcutter turns back to his work and out of the story, having pointed the monkey to the threshold of his life.
This passage completes the woodcutter's portrait and, with it, one of the novel's quiet thematic statements. Pressed by the monkey to take up cultivation with his immortal neighbour, the woodcutter explains that he cannot: his father is dead, his mother widowed and old, and as her only child he must cut firewood, sell it for coppers, and buy rice to keep her — 所以不能修行, 'and so I cannot cultivate.' Wú Chéng'ēn (吳承恩) sets the Confucian virtue of 孝 (filial piety) beside the Daoist quest for transcendence without resolving the tension: the woodcutter forgoes immortality for duty, and the monkey, far from scorning him, names him 'a gentleman of filial conduct' who will surely be rewarded. The novel honours the man who stays no less than the one who seeks.
The directions the woodcutter gives are the most heavily coded names in the chapter. 靈臺方寸山 — the 'Mountain of the Numinous Terrace and the Square Inch' — joins two classical metaphors for the heart-mind (靈臺 from the Zhuangzi, 方寸 the 'square inch' of the heart). 斜月三星洞, the 'Cave of the Slanting Moon and Three Stars,' is a written riddle: the slanting moon is the hooked stroke and the three stars the three dots of the graph 心, 'heart.' The master's dwelling, decoded, is simply the heart — so that the monkey's outward journey to a far mountain is, allegorically, a turning inward. This is the chapter title's 心性修持 ('the cultivation of the heart-and-nature') written into the very geography.
The master is named 須菩提祖師, Patriarch Subodhi — the name borrowed from Subhūti, one of the Buddha's ten great disciples, yet here a teacher of Daoist immortality and transformation. The blend is deliberate and typical: as Andrew H. Plaks and Anthony C. Yu both observe, the novel refuses to keep its Three Teachings apart, and the figure who will instruct the monkey bears a Buddhist name in a Daoist cave reached through a Confucian act of guidance. With the woodcutter's last words — 'off you go, off you go' — the humble guide returns to his axe, and the monkey is left at the edge of the path that leads, after so many years and two oceans, to the master at last.