Now the Gold-Headed Guardian, mounting a single cloud, came early to the Southern Sea.

卻說 takes up the thread the storyteller laid down with 不題. The 南海, Southern Sea, is Guanyin's abode. 一駕雲, "one riding of the cloud," measures the whole journey as a single effortless act.

He reined in his auspicious light and went straight to the Purple Bamboo Grove on Mount Potalaka, where he had the golden-armoured devas and Mokṣa Huì'àn carry word within, and so obtained audience with the Bodhisattva.

落伽山 is Mount Potalaka, Guanyin's island paradise; 伽 is read qié, its Buddhist transliteration value, as in 伽藍 earlier in the chapter. 紫竹林, the Purple Bamboo Grove. 木叉 (Mokṣa), styled 惠岸, is Guanyin's disciple. 得見, "to obtain audience," takes 得 as dé.

Said the Bodhisattva: "On what errand have you come?"

汝 is the classical "you"; 何幹, "on what business." The Bodhisattva's brevity is characteristic: she is the one being in this chapter who wastes no words.

Said the Guardian: "The Tang monk has lost his horse at Eagle-Grief Steep Gorge on Coiled-Snake Mountain, and the Great Sage Sun is so beside himself that he can neither advance nor retreat.

急得 takes the resultative 得 (de). 進退兩難, "hard to advance and hard to retreat," is the set phrase for a dilemma; 難 is here nán, "difficult," not the nàn of tribulation.

On enquiring of the earth-god of that place, we learn it was swallowed by the vile dragon whom the Bodhisattva sent to dwell in the gorge.

本處土神, "the earth-god of this place." The Guardian reports the one fact that matters — the dragon is the Bodhisattva's own charge — and reports it with the faintest edge of reproach.

The Great Sage has bidden this humble god come and beg the Bodhisattva to subdue the vile dragon and give him back his horse."

著 is causative here, read zhuó, "to send, to have someone do." 降 is xiáng, "to subdue," not jiàng, "to descend"; and 還他馬匹 takes 還 as huán, "to give back." The chapter's two governing verbs stand together in one clause.

Hearing this, the Bodhisattva said: "That creature is by birth a son of Aorun of the Western Sea.

敖閏 (Áo Rùn) is the Dragon King of the Western Sea; 之子, "his son," takes 子 in its full lexical sense, zǐ. 這廝, "that creature," keeps the dismissive register the gods have used of the dragon throughout.

For setting fire to the luminous pearl of the palace hall he was charged by his own father with unfilial conduct, and in the courts of Heaven he was condemned to death.

殿上明珠, the luminous pearl of the palace hall, was a treasure of the sea-dragon's court. 忤逆, "unfilial, refractory," is a capital charge in imperial law as in the codes of Heaven; 為 is read wèi, "on account of." The dragon's crime is thus of precisely Wukong's order — an offence against a superior.

It was I who went in person before the Jade Emperor and begged him down, that he might serve the Tang monk as a beast of burden.

討他下來, "to beg him down," i.e. to petition for remission of the death sentence. 腳力 is "a beast of burden, a mount." The horse the dragon has just devoured was to have been replaced by the dragon himself: the irony is complete, and no one in the gorge knows it.

How comes he to have eaten the Tang monk's horse instead?

反, "on the contrary, instead." Even the Bodhisattva is taken aback — a rare thing in this novel, and a reminder that her providence works through the creatures' own natures rather than around them.

Since it is so, wait while I go."

這等說, "since it is put so"; 等我去來, "wait while I go" — the colloquial idiom for setting off at once, with no further deliberation.

The Bodhisattva descended from her lotus dais, left her immortal grotto, and with the Guardian rode the auspicious light, passing over the Southern Sea and away.

降蓮臺 takes 降 as jiàng, "to descend," in direct contrast with the xiáng ("subdue") of a few lines above: one graph, two readings, within a single passage. 駕著 takes the durative 著 (zhe).

There is a poem to attest it. The poem says:

有詩為證, "there is a poem to attest it," is the storyteller's formula for introducing verse; 為 is read wéi, "to serve as." 詩曰 ushers in a regulated poem in the seven-syllable line.

The Buddha preached the pāramitā, the sūtras of the Three Baskets; the Bodhisattva spread goodness till it filled the Long Wall.

蜜多 transliterates Sanskrit pāramitā, "crossing over to the farther shore"; 三藏經 is the Tripiṭaka, the Three Baskets of the canon — and, punningly, the scriptures of Sanzang, whose very name is those graphs (藏 read zàng). 長城, the Long Wall (長 read cháng), stands for the whole realm of China.

The mahā words of wonder pass through Heaven and Earth; the prajñā mantra of truth delivers the ghostly souls.

摩訶 (mó hē) transliterates mahā, "great"; 般若 (bō rě) is prajñā, transcendent wisdom; 真言, "true words," renders mantra. The couplet names the two poles of the Perfection of Wisdom literature that the pilgrimage is undertaken to fetch.

Thus was the Golden Cicada made to slough his shell once more; thus was Xuanzang set again to the practice of the Way.

金蟬, the Golden Cicada, was Sanzang in a former existence — a disciple of the Buddha banished for inattention to the Law. 重脫殼 takes 重 as chóng, "again," and 殼 as qiào: the cicada's sloughing is the standing figure for rebirth. 玄奘 (Xuánzàng) is the monk's historical name.

Only because the road lay barred at Eagle-Grief Gorge did the dragon's son return to truth and take the form of a horse.

龍子, "the dragon's son" (子 read zǐ), is the jade dragon; 歸真, "to return to the true," is the term, common to Daoist and Buddhist usage, for reverting to one's proper nature. Standing before the event, the poem tells the reader what neither combatant can yet see: the obstacle is the deliverance.