The Guardian did indeed go to the brink of the gorge and call out twice.

果 is "indeed, just as she said". She told him to call once; the Guardian, sensibly, calls twice.

The little dragon churned the billows and leapt the waves, sprang out of the water, changed into human likeness, and trod upon a cloud;

翻波跳浪 is to churn the billows and leap the waves — the same water, the same exit, as when it came up to take the horse. What is different is what comes out of it. 變作一個人像: the dragon takes human shape. It fought in the body of a beast; the form in which one answers a Bodhisattva is not the form in which one brawls.

and rising into the air he did reverence to the Bodhisattva, saying:

禮拜 is to do reverence. The creature that would not so much as answer Wukong's abuse kneels in mid-air without being asked, and nobody has struck anybody.

"I have long awaited here the grace by which the Bodhisattva loosed me and spared my life, and never yet have I heard tidings of the scripture-seeker."

向蒙 is "having formerly received" a kindness. 解脫 is the Buddhist vimokṣa, release or deliverance, and it carries both its technical sense and its plain one here — he was untied, and he was saved. 更不聞 takes 更 as gèng, "not once, never yet". The reproach is gentle and completely justified: he has been sitting in a gorge for a year waiting for a man nobody described to him.

The Bodhisattva pointed to the Pilgrim and said: "Is this not the scripture-seeker's chief disciple?"

指著 takes the unstressed zhe. Her entire rebuke is in the gesture rather than the words. The thing he has been waiting for has been standing in front of him, shouting, since yesterday.

Seeing him, the little dragon said: "Bodhisattva, this is my adversary.

對頭 is an adversary, an opposite number. Note that the dragon does not deny anything. He simply had the wrong idea about who this was.

Yesterday my belly was famished, and I did indeed eat his horse.

饑餒 jī něi is famished, starving. 果然 is "indeed, sure enough". The confession is immediate and comes with no excuse attached, which is itself a kind of dignity — and a pointed contrast with the monkey, who has not admitted to a single error all chapter.

Trusting to a certain strength of his, he fought me until my courage failed and I withdrew, and then so railed at me that I shut my door and dared not come out.

倚著 takes the unstressed zhe; 力量 reads 量 as liàng, the noun. 將我鬥得 and 罵得我 both take the unstressed de, and the 將 jiāng shunts the object in front of its verb. Then a small piece of comedy hiding in an idiom: 閉門, "shut my door", said by a creature that lives at the bottom of a river and has no door to shut. It is the phrase of a beaten householder barring up for the night, and he uses it because it is simply what one says.

Never once did he so much as mention the words 'seeking the scriptures.'"

And here it is — the sentence the whole chapter has been built to arrive at. 更不曾提著 is "never once brought it up", where 提著 is one of the 著 that mark something achieved, read zháo — the mention landing, or here, failing to. The dragon's grievance is that a single word would have prevented the entire battle, and Wukong never said it.

Said the Pilgrim: "You never asked my surname or my name. How should I have said it?"

姓甚名誰 is "what surname, what given name", with 甚 read shén. The retort is pure Wukong: the fault must lie with whoever failed to ask.

Said the little dragon: "Did I not ask, 'Whence come you, rascally demon?'

那裡來的 is a question — "where from?" — hence nǎ. And the dragon quotes the exchange back word for word. The novel enjoys these little forensic reconstructions, and it is about to win an argument with one.

And you bawled back, 'Never mind whence or whence not — only give me back my horse.'

管甚麼那裡不那裡 is Wukong's own line from the fight, both 那裡 read nǎ; 只還我馬來 takes 還 as huán. Put into the dragon's mouth and played back, the war cry sounds exactly as empty as it was: a demand from nobody, on behalf of nothing.

When did you ever utter half a syllable of the word 'Tang'?"

半個字 is "half a character", that is, a single syllable. The Tang, the scriptures, the whole pilgrimage — all of it hung on one name that was never spoken aloud, and a horse died for the omission.

Said the Bodhisattva: "That monkey-head trusts to nothing but his own strength. When would he ever praise another?

猴頭, "monkey-head", is contemptuous and rather fond at the same time. Two 那 in this line and they differ: 那猴頭 is the pointing nà, while 那肯 is the rhetorical question, nǎ — "when would he ever be willing?" 專倚自強 is "relies on nothing but his own strength".

On this journey forward there will yet be others who submit and follow.

歸順 is to submit and give allegiance. The Bodhisattva is looking past this gorge to the whole road: Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing are both foreshadowed in this half-line, and both will be won in exactly the way she is about to describe.

When they question you, speak first of the scripture-seeking, and then, without troubling your heart, they will yield of themselves."

勞心 is to trouble the heart, to expend effort; 拱伏 is to bow with folded hands and submit. Her advice is the moral of the chapter reduced to something you could write on a card: say who you are and what you are here for, and the enemy stops being an enemy.