猴心未死 One Last Blow
他口裡雖然答應，心上還懷不善，把那針兒幌一幌，碗來粗細，望唐僧就欲下手。慌得長老口中又念了兩三遍。這猴子跌倒在地，丟了鐵棒，不能舉手，只教：「師父，我曉得了。再莫念，再莫念。」三藏道：「你怎麼欺心，就敢打我？」行者道：「我不曾敢打。我問師父，你這法兒是誰教你的？」三藏道：「是適間一個老母傳授我的。」行者大怒道：「不消講了，這個老母，坐定是那個觀世音。他怎麼那等害我？等我上南海打他去。」他口里虽然答应，心上还怀不善，把那针儿幌一幌，碗来粗细，望唐僧就欲下手。慌得长老口中又念了两三遍。这猴子跌倒在地，丢了铁棒，不能举手，只教：「师父，我晓得了。再莫念，再莫念。」三藏道：「你怎么欺心，就敢打我？」行者道：「我不曾敢打。我问师父，你这法儿是谁教你的？」三藏道：「是适间一个老母传授我的。」行者大怒道：「不消讲了，这个老母，坐定是那个观世音。他怎么那等害我？等我上南海打他去。」
逐句解 Line by line
Though his mouth said yes, his heart still harboured malice: he gave the needle a shake, till it was as thick as a bowl, and made to strike at the Tang monk.
The promise was thirty seconds old. Given a master with his guard down, the monkey swells the cudgel and goes for his head — which retrospectively tells you exactly what those two meek answers were worth. 答應 reads 應 as yìng; 還懷 reads 還 as hái; 那針兒 reads 那 as nà.
In alarm the elder recited the spell two or three times more.
And the spell is now a reflex, recited in alarm rather than in judgement. 慌得 reads 得 as de.
This monkey tumbled to the ground, dropped the iron rod, could not raise his hand, and could only cry, "Master, I understand! Recite no more, recite no more."
Down mid-swing, the rod dropped, unable to lift his arm. There could be no plainer demonstration of where power now sits. 猴子 takes the light 子 (zi); 只教 reads 教 as jiào; 曉得 reads 得 as de.
Sanzang said, "How could you be so treacherous as to dare to strike me?"
How could you be so treacherous? — asked by the man who has just spent an afternoon secretly learning a spell for this exact purpose. 三藏 reads 藏 as zàng.
The Pilgrim said, "I did not dare strike. Let me ask you, Master — who taught you this trick?"
He denies it flatly and then turns detective, which is the more dangerous instinct: never mind the cudgel, who taught you that? 行者 reads 行 as xíng; 誰教你 reads 教 as jiào.
Sanzang said, "A moment ago an old woman handed it down to me."
An old woman, a moment ago. It is a truthful answer and a hopeless one. 三藏 reads 藏 as zàng.
The Pilgrim flew into a rage: "No need to say more — this old woman is surely that Guanyin. How could she treat me so? Wait — I'll go up to the Southern Sea and beat her!"
He needs no second clue: that old woman was Guanyin, and he proposes to fly to the Southern Sea and beat her up. The reflex is the same one that stormed Heaven — when hurt, go straight at whoever is highest. 行者 reads 行 as xíng; 那個 and 那等 both read 那 as nà.
The chapter refuses to let the surrender come too easily or too soon. The instant Sanzang's guard drops, Wukong swells the cudgel and moves to kill him — proof that the promise of the previous passage was exactly as shallow as it looked. The mind-monkey's violence has not been erased by the band; it has been checked. And checked it decisively is: the spell drops him mid-blow, and no clearer demonstration of where power lies was available.
His rage, once he learns where the spell came from, is aimed with perfect accuracy at Guanyin — he sees through the old woman in a heartbeat. The threat to storm the Southern Sea and beat a bodhisattva is both funny and entirely in character: bound, beaten and flat on the ground, his first instinct is still to attack the highest authority within reach. It is the same defiance that once took on Heaven, meeting a subtler and far more inescapable restraint.
The scene sets up the final turn. Sanzang's warning in the next passage — that the one who devised the spell can obviously recite it herself, so going after her is suicide — supplies the practical argument that at last converts forced compliance into settled, if grudging, resolve. The monkey yields not to morality but to a clear-eyed reading of the odds, and on that hard, realistic footing the pilgrimage can finally get moving.