So enraged was he that he threw down his pack, flung away his umbrella, and came at the Pilgrim with both hands, clawing like a shower of rain.

氣得: the unstressed de again, angry to the point of throwing things down. 雨點似, like raindrops, with 似 read sì — and the comparison is about how fast the blows come, not how hard.

The Pilgrim propped the baggage with one hand and held the man off with the other; scuffle as he might, he could lay hold of nothing.

Two 著 in one line, and they are read differently. 扶著行李 is a state kept up, zhe, propping the luggage. 不能抓著 is a target missed, zháo, could not get hold of anything. Same character, opposite jobs, decided by where each one sits. 支吾 is to fend somebody off, with words or with hands.

The tighter the Pilgrim held, the more the man raged, crackling with fury like a thunderclap.

爆燥 is writing 暴躁, hot-tempered — but the character chosen, 爆, means to explode, and it supplies the crackle that 如雷, like thunder, then finishes off.

Sanzang said, "Wukong, is that not another man coming over there? Ask that one instead. Why keep hold of this one?

Here 那裡 is 那 read nà, over there — the pointing word, not the asking one. The negative is rhetorical: is that not someone coming? Sanzang, true to form, would rather inconvenience a second stranger than watch his disciple bully the first.

Let him go." The Pilgrim laughed. "Master, you do not understand. If I ask another and get nothing by it, I must ask this one anyway. He is where the trade lies."

沒趣 is to come away with nothing, to be snubbed. 才有買賣, only there is the trade — and 買賣, buying and selling, is the Pilgrim's word for this whole affair. It is a merchant's idiom, not a monk's, and he keeps it up all chapter.

Held fast and not let go, the man was forced at last to speak. "This place is within the borders of the kingdom of Ü-Tsang, and it is called Gao Village.

烏斯藏 transcribes the Tibetan dbus-gtsang, Ü-Tsang, the central provinces of Tibet; 藏 is zàng, as in 西藏, not the verb cáng, to hide. Geographically that is a long way. Textually the pilgrims have gone from the Tang frontier to Tibet inside one chapter.

More than half the households of the village are surnamed Gao, and that is why it is so called. Now let me go."

The explanation is given flatly and then given again: 喚做高老莊 appears in both halves. 高老莊 means no more than the village of old Gao — and the novel will make that surname carry the weight of the whole episode.

The Pilgrim said again, "You are dressed for more than a short walk. Tell me truly:

行裝 is travelling dress. The Pilgrim is reading the man's clothes as evidence, exactly as he read them at first sight: the pack, the umbrella, the tied trouser-legs.

where are you bound, and what is the business you are really about? Then I will let you go."

端的 is a fixed vernacular adverb meaning truly, in fact, and its 的 is read dì. 所幹何事 asks what business a man is upon. 那裡 here is the question word, nǎ.