亂砍無傷 No Harm from the Blows
那賊聞言，喜的喜，怒的怒，愛的愛，思的思，慾的慾，憂的憂，一齊上前亂嚷道：「這和尚無禮。你的東西全然沒有，轉來和我等要分東西。」他掄槍舞劍，一擁前來，照行者劈頭亂砍，乒乒乓乓，砍有七八十下。悟空停立中間，只當不知。那賊道：「好和尚，真個的頭硬。」行者笑道：「將就看得過罷了。你們也打得手困了，卻該老孫取出個針兒來耍耍。」那賊道：「這和尚是一個行針灸的郎中變的。我們又無病症，說甚麼動針的話？」那贼闻言，喜的喜，怒的怒，爱的爱，思的思，欲的欲，忧的忧，一齐上前乱嚷道：「这和尚无礼。你的东西全然没有，转来和我等要分东西。」他抡枪舞剑，一拥前来，照行者劈头乱砍，乒乒乓乓，砍有七八十下。悟空停立中间，只当不知。那贼道：「好和尚，真个的头硬。」行者笑道：「将就看得过罢了。你们也打得手困了，却该老孙取出个针儿来耍耍。」那贼道：「这和尚是一个行针灸的郎中变的。我们又无病症，说甚么动针的话？」
逐句解 Line by line
Hearing this, the robbers — the glad one glad, the angry one angry, the loving one loving, the longing one longing, the lustful one lustful, the careworn one careworn — rushed forward together, clamouring:
The wordplay of the names is extended into their reaction: each robber acts out his passion (喜的喜，怒的怒, "the glad one glad, the angry one angry"), keeping the allegory in view even as they attack. 那賊 reads 那 as nà.
"This monk has no manners! You have no goods at all, and now you turn round and want a share of ours!"
Their indignation is comic — outrage that the penniless monk should demand a cut. 要分東西 reads 分 as fēn.
They wielded spear and sword and pressed in all together, hacking down at the Pilgrim's head with a clatter and a clang — seventy or eighty blows in all.
The onslaught is loud and futile: seventy or eighty blows raining on the monkey's head, rendered with onomatopoeia (乒乒乓乓). 行者 reads 行 as xíng.
Wukong stood planted in their midst, acting as though he felt nothing.
Wukong's invulnerability — a trait from the early chapters, his body tempered adamantine — lets him stand unmoved. 中間 reads 中 as zhōng.
The robbers said, "What a monk! His head really is hard."
The robbers' astonishment at his hard head sets up his mocking reply.
The Pilgrim laughed and said, "It will pass well enough. And you have beaten till your hands are tired — now it is old Sun's turn to bring out a little needle for some sport."
His teasing — that after their blows it is his turn to "bring out a needle for sport" — refers, of course, to the cudgel disguised behind his ear. 將就 ("make do") reads 將 as jiāng; 看得過 and 打得手困 both take 得 as de.
The robbers said, "This monk must be some acupuncture doctor in disguise.
The robbers, taking "needle" literally, jeer at him as an acupuncturist. 行針灸 reads 行 as xíng; 郎中 reads 中 as zhōng.
We have no illness — what talk is this of plying needles?"
Their scoff — no illness, so why talk of needles? — is the last word before the tiny needle becomes the great rod. 說甚麼 reads 甚 as shén.
The battle is played entirely for comedy and for the allegory. The robbers' futile assault — dozens of blows clanging off Wukong's adamantine skull while he stands unconcerned — recalls the invulnerable body he forged in the novel's opening arc, and reduces the "fearsome" bandits to a rabble beating a stone.
The running joke of the disguised needle carries the scene: Wukong offers to "bring out a needle for some sport," the robbers jeer at the notion of an acupuncturist, and the reader waits for the punchline — the needle that will swell into the iron cudgel. On the allegorical level, the senses' assault on the disciplined mind is shown to be powerless; they can clamour and strike, but they cannot harm what has been tempered.
The passage sets the pivot of the chapter. The comedy is about to turn: in the next moment the cudgel appears and all six are killed — an act that is, at once, the triumphant "vanishing of the Six Robbers" of the title and the reckless slaughter that will fracture the bond between master and disciple.