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兩界山別
The Parting at Two-Boundary Mountain
行經半日,只見對面處有一座大山,真個是高接青霄,崔巍險峻。三藏不一時到了邊前。那太保登此山如行平地,正走到半山之中,伯欽回身,立於路下道:「長老,請自前進,我卻告回。」三藏聞言,滾鞍下馬道:「千萬敢勞太保再送一程。」伯欽道:「長老不知。此山喚做兩界山,東半邊屬我大唐所管,西半邊乃是韃靼的地界。那廂狼虎不伏我降,我卻也不能過界,你自去罷。」三藏心驚,掄開手,牽衣執袂,滴淚難分。正在那叮嚀拜別之際,只聽得山腳下叫喊如雷道:「我師父來也!我師父來也!」諕得個三藏痴呆,伯欽打掙。畢竟不知是甚人叫喊,且聽下回分解。行经半日,只见对面处有一座大山,真个是高接青霄,崔巍险峻。三藏不一时到了边前。那太保登此山如行平地,正走到半山之中,伯钦回身,立于路下道:「长老,请自前进,我却告回。」三藏闻言,滚鞍下马道:「千万敢劳太保再送一程。」伯钦道:「长老不知。此山唤做两界山,东半边属我大唐所管,西半边乃是鞑靼的地界。那厢狼虎不伏我降,我却也不能过界,你自去罢。」三藏心惊,抡开手,牵衣执袂,滴泪难分。正在那叮咛拜别之际,只听得山脚下叫喊如雷道:「我师父来也!我师父来也!」諕得个三藏痴呆,伯钦打挣。毕竟不知是甚人叫喊,且听下回分解。
逐句解 Line by line
行經半日,只見對面處有一座大山,真個是高接青霄,崔巍險峻。三藏不一時到了邊前。那太保登此山如行平地,正走到半山之中,伯欽回身,立於路下道:「長老,請自前進,我卻告回。」三藏聞言,滾鞍下馬道:「千萬敢勞太保再送一程。」伯欽道:「長老不知。此山喚做兩界山,東半邊屬我大唐所管,西半邊乃是韃靼的地界。那廂狼虎不伏我降,我卻也不能過界,你自去罷。」三藏心驚,掄開手,牽衣執袂,滴淚難分。正在那叮嚀拜別之際,只聽得山腳下叫喊如雷道:「我師父來也!我師父來也!」諕得個三藏痴呆,伯欽打掙。
行经半日,只见对面处有一座大山,真个是高接青霄,崔巍险峻。三藏不一时到了边前。那太保登此山如行平地,正走到半山之中,伯钦回身,立于路下道:「长老,请自前进,我却告回。」三藏闻言,滚鞍下马道:「千万敢劳太保再送一程。」伯钦道:「长老不知。此山唤做两界山,东半边属我大唐所管,西半边乃是鞑靼的地界。那厢狼虎不伏我降,我却也不能过界,你自去罢。」三藏心惊,抡开手,牵衣执袂,滴泪难分。正在那叮咛拜别之际,只听得山脚下叫喊如雷道:「我师父来也!我师父来也!」諕得个三藏痴呆,伯钦打挣。
They had journeyed half a day when, on the side opposite, they saw a great mountain, one that truly reached up to touch the blue empyrean, towering and steep and sheer. In no long time Sanzang came up before it. The Guardian climbed this mountain as though walking on level ground; but when they had come to the middle of the range, Boqin turned about and stood at the foot of the path, saying: "Elder, pray go forward on your own; I must here take my leave." Hearing this, Sanzang tumbled from his saddle and said: "I beg and implore the Guardian to see me one stage further." Boqin said: "Elder, you do not know. This mountain is called the Mountain of Two Boundaries; its eastern half belongs to the governance of our Great Tang, but its western half is the territory of the Tatars. The wolves and tigers over yonder do not submit to my subduing, and I for my part may not cross the boundary; you must go on by yourself." Sanzang was stricken with fear; he flung out his hands and clung to Boqin's clothes and sleeves, his tears falling, loath to part. And just at this moment of earnest leave-taking, there came from the foot of the mountain a shout like thunder, crying: "My master is come! My master is come!" It frightened Sanzang out of his wits, and left Boqin dumbstruck.
兩界山 (Liǎng-jiè Shān), the "Mountain of Two Boundaries," is exactly what its name says: east of the ridgeline is Tang, west of it is not. Boqin's authority ends at that line and he says so plainly — the wolves and tigers over there do not answer to him. 我降 uses 降 in the sense "to subdue," read xiáng, as against jiàng, "to descend," which is how the same character was read back in the opening poem when the emperor sent his edict down. Then the shout comes from under the mountain — "My master is come!" — and that is Sun Wukong, pinned there five hundred years and about to be let out. The first disciple announces himself before anyone has laid eyes on him.
畢竟不知是甚人叫喊,且聽下回分解。
毕竟不知是甚人叫喊,且听下回分解。
There is no telling, in the end, who it was that shouted; and for that, you must listen to the explanation in the next chapter.
且聽下回分解, "listen to the explanation in the next chapter," is the storyteller's standard sign-off — the line that ends every installment, cutting away at the worst possible moment and sending the audience home wanting the next one.
總評 Commentary
The chapter ends at a border, which is the right place for it. Boqin has carried the pilgrim out of the wilderness, fed him, sheltered him and walked him halfway up a mountain, and now he stops: the Tang writ reaches this far and no further, and neither does he.
The parting is played for real feeling. Xuanzang comes off his horse, catches at the hunter's sleeves, and cries — a grown man clinging to a near-stranger at the edge of the known world. It is the last image in a chapter that has shown him kept alive at every single step by other people's kindness.
And then, at the exact moment he is about to be left alone, a voice like thunder from under the mountain: "My master is come!" The reader knows who that is. Xuanzang does not, and the novel stops there — mid-shout, question unanswered, in the storyteller's oldest manner.
It is a well-chosen cut. Everything up to here has been the pilgrim on his own, helpless and rescued by luck and heaven. What is buried under that mountain changes the arrangement permanently.