Sanzang had scarcely read the card when he passed it to the prior. "Can it be that your master too was a fiend?"

敢莫 means can it be that. 簡帖: 帖 reads tiě. Sanzang, holding a letter of condolence in his hand, asks whether the dead man was a monster — and asks it of the dead man's own subordinate.

The prior knelt down in haste. "Venerable sir, my master was a man.

The prior kneels down to a monkey and defends his abbot in one flat sentence: 我師父是人, my master was a man.

It was only that the Great King of Black Wind, having cultivated himself into the estate of men, would often come to the temple to expound the scriptures with my master;

修成人道 is to have cultivated oneself up into the estate of men. And the bear used to come to the temple to 講經, to expound the sutras — the two of them ran what amounted to a private reading group.

and he taught my master certain arts of nourishing the spirit and swallowing the breath. So they called one another friends."

養神服氣 are Taoist longevity arts, nourishing the spirit and swallowing the breath. So the traffic went both ways: the bear received Buddhist scripture and gave back Taoist breathwork. 相稱: 相 is xiāng, 稱 is chēng.

The Pilgrim said, "This crowd of monks has no fiendish air about it. Every one of them has a round head to top the heavens and a square foot to tread the earth;

沒甚 takes shén: not any. 頭圓頂天，足方履地 is the classical definition of a human being — a round head to answer the round heaven, a square foot to answer the square earth. The Pilgrim applies the anatomical test and pronounces the monks human.

only they are somewhat plumper and taller than old Sun. They are no fiends.

長大: 長 is zhǎng, grown. 些兒 carries the toneless diminutive er. The only difference he can find between himself and a man is girth.

Look at the card there: it is written 'Your junior in the service, the Bear-Fiend.' The thing must certainly be a black bear come to spirithood."

帖兒: tiě, plus the toneless diminutive er. The signature is the evidence, and the Pilgrim reads it as a confession of species.

Sanzang said, "I have heard the ancients say, 'The bear and the ape are of a kind.' Both are of the tribe of beasts. How then should he come to spirithood?"

聞得 takes the linking de; 相類 takes xiāng; 都 reads dōu. Sanzang quotes a maxim about the kinship of bears and apes to a disciple who is an ape, and shows no sign of hearing himself do it.

The Pilgrim laughed. "Old Sun is of the tribe of beasts, and was made Great Sage Equal to Heaven. Wherein do I differ from him?

見做了齊天大聖: 見 is kept at its default jiàn, the classical marker of the passive — was made. Ming vernacular often writes 見 where it means 現 (xiàn, presently), which would give is now made; the sense barely shifts either way, and the reading is flagged rather than silently settled.

Broadly, of the things of this world, whatever has the nine apertures may cultivate itself and become immortal."

九竅 are the nine apertures of the body. The doctrine arrives as though it were common knowledge: any creature so equipped may cultivate the Way. It is the theological hinge of the entire chapter, and a monkey speaks it in defence of a bear.

Sanzang said again, "You told me just now that his powers are an even hand with yours. How then will you get the victory, and bring my cassock back?"

手平, an even hand. Sanzang hands the Pilgrim back his own word from the previous passage and asks the practical question it implies.

The Pilgrim said, "Never mind, never mind. I have my remedy."

處治 is a remedy, a way of handling something. He has none, and will have none until a Bodhisattva supplies it.

While they were consulting, the monks set out the evening meal and begged master and disciple to eat.

晚齋 is the evening meatless meal — the third the monastery has served him today.

Sanzang bade them light the lamps, and went again to rest in the meditation hall at the front.

掌燈 is to take up the lamps. 教 is the causative jiào.

The monks all leaned against wall and partition, thatched themselves shelters of matting, and lay down each where he was, leaving only the rear lodge for the prior and his second to sleep in.

挨牆倚壁: 挨 reads āi, to press up close against. 苫搭窩棚 is to thatch up nesting-sheds — the monks have no cells left to sleep in, because the Pilgrim burned them.

It was then the still of night. Behold:

但見 opens the night rhapsody, which runs on into the next passage.