袁公卦肆 The Fortune-Teller's Studio
上路來，拽開雲步，徑到長安城西門大街上。只見一簇人，擠擠雜雜，鬧鬧哄哄。內有高談闊論的道：「屬龍的本命，屬虎的相沖。寅辰巳亥，雖稱合局，但怕的是日犯歲君。」龍王聞言，情知是賣卜之處。走上前，分開眾人，望裡觀看。只見：上路来，拽开云步，径到长安城西门大街上。只见一簇人，挤挤杂杂，闹闹哄哄。内有高谈阔论的道：「属龙的本命，属虎的相冲。寅辰巳亥，虽称合局，但怕的是日犯岁君。」龙王闻言，情知是卖卜之处。走上前，分开众人，望里观看。只见：
逐句解 Line by line
Setting out, he strode along on his cloud-steps and came straight to West Gate Street in the city of Chang'an. There he saw a knot of people, jostling and packed close, all noise and clamor.
拽開雲步 ('to stretch out one's cloud-strides') takes 拽 as zhuài, 'to pull, stride'; 長 in 長安 is cháng. 擠擠雜雜, 鬧鬧哄哄 are reduplicative binomes for a dense, noisy crowd.
Among them one was holding forth in grand style: 'For a man whose fate-sign is the Dragon, the Tiger stands in clash with him. Though the branches yín, chén, sì, and hài are said to form a harmonious set, what is to be feared is the day that offends the Year-Lord.'
屬龍 ('to belong to the Dragon,' i.e. born in a Dragon year) takes 屬 as shǔ; 相 in 相沖 ('to be in mutual clash') is xiāng. The talk is of the almanac — the earthly branches (寅辰巳亥) and the 歲君, the Jupiter-spirit whose 'offense' brings ill luck. The overheard fortune-telling draws the dragon in.
Hearing this, the Dragon King knew at once that this was a place where divinations were sold. Stepping forward, he parted the crowd and looked within. He saw:
賣卜之處 ('a place where divination is sold') takes 卜 as bǔ; 情知 is 'to know full well.' The 賦 that follows describes the diviner's studio.
Pearls and gems along all four walls, and the whole hall hung with figured silks.
珠璣 are round and irregular pearls; 綺繡 is patterned brocade — an opulent setting for the diviner's art.
From the treasure-duck censer the incense never ceased; in the porcelain vase the water was wondrously clear.
寶鴨 is an incense-burner cast in the shape of a duck; 恁 (nèn) is 'so, to such a degree.'
To either side were ranged paintings by Wang Wei, and above his seat hung high an image of Master Guigu.
王維 (Wáng Wéi) is the great Tang poet-painter; 鬼谷 (Guǐgǔ), the Master of Ghost Valley, is the semi-legendary patron of diviners and strategists.
An inkstone of Duan, ink of gold-flecked soot, set off by a great brush of frost-white hair;
相 in 相襯 is xiāng, and 著 in 襯著 ('set off by') is the durative zhe. 端溪硯 is the prized Duanxi inkstone; 霜毫 ('frost-hair') is fine white brush-hair.
the Forest of Fire-Pearls and the reckonings of Guo Pu, carefully matched against the new canon of the Bureau.
火珠林 (Huǒzhūlín) is a classic manual of coin-divination; 郭璞 (Guō Pú) was the great Jin-dynasty diviner and geomancer; 了 in 對了 is the completive le.
In the six lines of the hexagram he was deeply versed; in the eight trigrams thoroughly skilled.
六爻 are the six lines of a Yijing hexagram, 八卦 the eight trigrams; 熟諳 and 精通 both mean 'to have complete command of.'
He could know the pattern of Heaven and Earth, and well understood the disposition of ghosts and spirits.
天地理 is 'the principles of Heaven and Earth,' 鬼神情 'the workings of gods and demons' — the couplet claims comprehensive cosmological knowledge.
On his one board the zi and wu bearings were fixed and set; a whole breast of stars he could array in order.
一槃 (= 一盤) is the single divining-board; 子午 are the north-south (midnight-noon) axis of the compass, 子 the earthly branch read zǐ (as in 子時); 滿腹星辰 ('a bellyful of stars') is the astrologer's mastery of the heavens. 一 is yì before 槃.
Truly, things to come and things long past he viewed as in a moon-bright mirror;
那 ('those') is the demonstrative nà; 觀如月鏡 ('to see as in a moon-mirror') is a figure for perfect clairvoyance of past and future.
how many houses would rise, how many fall, he discerned as though a very god.
興 in 幾家興 ('how many families prosper') is xīng, 'to rise, flourish'; 鑑若神明 ('to mirror like the gods') again asserts divine insight into fortunes.
He knew the ill and fixed the auspicious, pronounced on death and foretold life.
斷死言生 ('to judge death and speak of life') is the diviner's power over fate's verdicts, in balanced parallel phrases.
When he opened his talk, wind and rain came swift; when he set brush to paper, ghosts and spirits took fright.
開談 is 'to begin speaking'; the hyperbole — his speech summoning storms, his writing terrifying spirits — exalts the diviner just before the dragon, lord of storms, puts him to the test.
On his signboard, characters set out his name in full: Master of Divine Reckonings, Yuan Shoucheng.
神課先生 ('Master of the Divine Reckoning') is his professional title; 袁守誠 (Yuán Shǒuchéng) is at last named — the diviner whose infallible art will destroy the dragon.
The dragon, drawn by talk of the almanac, comes upon the studio of the diviner, and the 賦 that describes it is a portrait of occult authority: pearled walls and silks, a duck-shaped censer and a clear water-vase, paintings by Wang Wei and an image of the Master of Ghost Valley, the Duanxi inkstone and frost-white brush, and a shelf of the great divination classics — the Forest of Fire-Pearls, the reckonings of Guo Pu. The catalogue builds an image of a man in complete command of Heaven's patterns and the fates of houses.
The rhapsody's closing flourishes are pointed: this is a diviner whose very speech makes 'wind and rain come swift' and whose brush makes 'ghosts and spirits take fright.' The hyperbole is set deliberately in the path of the Dragon King, the actual master of wind and rain, who is about to wager that the man cannot possibly know when and how much rain will fall. Only in the last line is the diviner named — 袁守誠 — the quiet figure at the center of the chapter's machinery, whose accuracy is no hyperbole at all.