金星解厄 The Gold Star Dispels the Peril
三藏不勝感激，將包袱捎在馬上，牽著韁繩，相隨老叟徑出了坑坎之中，走上大路。卻將馬拴在道旁草頭上，轉身拜謝那公公，那公公遂化作一陣清風，跨一隻硃頂白鶴，騰空而去。只見風飄飄遺下一張簡帖，書上四句頌子。頌子云：三藏不胜感激，将包袱捎在马上，牵着缰绳，相随老叟径出了坑坎之中，走上大路。却将马拴在道旁草头上，转身拜谢那公公，那公公遂化作一阵清风，跨一只朱顶白鹤，腾空而去。只见风飘飘遗下一张简帖，书上四句颂子。颂子云：
三藏看了，對天禮拜道：「多謝金星，度脫此難。」拜畢，牽了馬匹，獨自個孤孤悽悽，往前苦進。三藏看了，对天礼拜道：「多谢金星，度脱此难。」拜毕，牵了马匹，独自个孤孤凄凄，往前苦进。
逐句解 Line by line
Overcome with gratitude, Sanzang bound his bundle upon the horse, took the halter in hand, and, following the old man, went straight out of the pit and up onto the high road. He had just tethered the horse to a clump of grass by the wayside and turned to bow his thanks to the aged sir, when the aged sir changed all at once into a puff of clear wind, mounted a white crane with a vermilion crown, and rose away into the sky. Then he saw, drifting down on the wind, a single slip of paper, and written upon it were four lines of a gāthā. The gāthā ran:
頌子 (sòng zi) is a gāthā — a short Buddhist verse used for praise or instruction, the form a teaching gets put in when it needs to be remembered. This one does double duty: it identifies the departing rescuer and leaves the pilgrim with advice. 硃頂白鶴, the "vermilion-crowned white crane," is the standard conveyance of immortals and star-gods — seeing one is like seeing a chauffeured car pull away; you know who was in it.
"I am the Star of Great White of the Western Heaven, come on purpose to deliver your living soul.
太白星 (Tài-bái Xīng), the "Star of Great White," is the planet Venus, personified as the star-god 太白金星, the Gold Star. He is one of the novel's most dependable figures — heaven's senior diplomat, forever turning up to defuse something, and readers of the earlier chapters will have met him already, negotiating with a certain monkey.
On the road ahead there will be divine disciples to help you; do not, for the hardships, come to resent the scriptures."
神徒, "divine disciples," is a promise: the companions are coming, and Sun Wukong is first among them. The second line is the warning — 莫為艱難報怨經, "do not let the hardships turn you against the scriptures." The road is going to be worse than this, and the danger the Gold Star names is not death but resentment.
When Sanzang had read it, he bowed in worship toward Heaven and said: "My thanks to the Gold Star for delivering me from this calamity." His worship done, he led his horse forward and, all alone and forlorn, pressed bitterly on.
金星 (Jīn-xīng), the "Gold Star" — Xuanzang can use the name now, because the verse has given it to him. In 此難 the character 難 is nàn, an ordeal, not nán, "difficult." The distinction matters: an ordeal is a countable thing, and this is the first of eighty-one.
The rescue ends with a reveal. Dissolving into wind, mounting a crane, rising out of sight — this is the standard exit choreography for a heavenly being, and the note fluttering down after him supplies the name: the Gold Star of Venus.
But the verse is not really about identification. It looks forward. Divine disciples are coming; the hardships are not a mistake; do not let them sour you on the errand. In four lines the novel states its own governing arrangement — heaven is watching, help arrives at the last moment, and the suffering is on the schedule rather than off it.
Then the machinery withdraws and leaves him exactly as it found him: one man, one horse, walking west. The word the text uses is 孤孤悽悽, forlorn, and the next thing that happens to him is a mountain.