黎明潛回 The Return Before Dawn
此時說破根源，悟空心靈福至，切切記了口訣。對祖師拜謝深恩，即出後門觀看。但見東方天色微舒白，西路金光大顯明。依舊路，轉到前門，輕輕的推開進去，坐在原寢之處，故將床鋪搖響道：「天光了，天光了，起耶！」那大眾還正睡哩，不知悟空已得了好事。當日起來打混，暗暗維持，子前午後，自己調息。此时说破根源，悟空心灵福至，切切记了口诀。对祖师拜谢深恩，即出后门观看。但见东方天色微舒白，西路金光大显明。依旧路，转到前门，轻轻的推开进去，坐在原寝之处，故将床铺摇响道：「天光了，天光了，起耶！」那大众还正睡哩，不知悟空已得了好事。当日起来打混，暗暗维持，子前午后，自己调息。
逐句解 Line by line
At this, the source laid bare, Wukong's spirit quickened and blessing came upon him, and he committed the oral formula firmly to memory.
說破 (shuō pò): "to lay bare, explain fully"; 破 = pò. 根源 (gēn yuán): "the root and source" — the deepest principle. 心靈福至: "his spirit quickened and blessing arrived" — on the order of 福至心靈, the notion that when fortune comes the mind grows clear and apt. 切切 (qiè qiè): "earnestly, firmly."
He bowed to the Patriarch in thanks for his deep kindness, and went straight out the back door to look about.
深恩 (shēn ēn): "deep kindness."
He saw the sky in the east just faintly spreading white, while in the west the golden light still shone bright.
A balanced antithetical couplet (對句) of the dawn: in the east (東方) the daylight just begins to whiten (微舒白, 舒 = "to spread, unfurl"), while in the west (西路) the golden light — the setting moon — still shines bright (大顯明). An inline parallel couplet, not a set-off poem.
By the old path he turned back to the front gate, pushed it softly open and went in, sat down in his former sleeping-place, and on purpose shook the bed-frame till it creaked, calling: “Daylight! Daylight! Get up!”
依舊路: "following the same path"; 依 = yī "to follow." 轉到 (zhuǎn dào): "to turn (back) to"; 多音字 轉 = zhuǎn "to turn" (not zhuàn "to revolve"). 故將 (gù jiāng): "deliberately"; 故 = gù "on purpose." 床鋪 (chuáng pù): "the bed, bunk"; 多音字 鋪 = pù "bed, shop" (not pū "to spread"). 起耶 (qǐ yē): "Get up!"; 耶 = yē, a colloquial exclamatory final particle.
The others were all still asleep, and none knew that Wukong had come by his good fortune.
還正睡 (hái zhèng shuì): "still fast asleep"; 多音字 還 = hái "still" (not huán "to return"). 已得了好事: "had already gained the good thing [the secret]"; 得 = dé "to obtain" (full tone, not the particle de). 好 = hǎo "good" (多音字, not hào). Sandhi: 不知 → bù.
That day he rose and mingled with the rest as usual, but quietly kept up the work, regulating his breath by himself before the hour of zi and after the hour of wu.
打混 (dǎ hùn): "to mingle inconspicuously, muddle along [as if nothing had happened]"; 多音字 混 = hùn "to mix, blend in" (not hún). 維持 (wéi chí): "to keep up, maintain." 子前午後 (zǐ qián wǔ hòu): "before the hour of zi (midnight) and after the hour of wu (noon)" — the cardinal hours of 子 (midnight) and 午 (noon) at which internal-alchemical breath-work is done; both are cyclical signs (zǐ, wǔ). 調息 (tiáo xī): "to regulate the breath"; 調 = tiáo.
After the concentrated alchemical climax of the transmission, the narrative exhales. Wukong absorbs the secret — 心靈福至, his spirit quickened and fortune come — and then, with the same cool concealment he showed when the others reviled him, slips back to his place and covers his absence by play-acting the morning wake-up, shaking the bed and crying for everyone to rise. The great event passes entirely unseen: 那大眾還正睡哩，不知悟空已得了好事. The motif of the secret kept close, established in the riddle scene, now becomes the very texture of his daily life.
The closing detail is quietly precise about what that daily life now holds. Wukong regulates his breath 子前午後, "before the hour of zi and after the hour of wu" — and those two hours are not casual. 子 (midnight) and 午 (noon) are the two pivots of the daily cycle, the points at which, in the internal-alchemical scheme, yang is first born within yin and yin first born within yang; they are the canonical times for the breath-work of the "microcosmic orbit." The monkey who once measured his years only by peach-harvests now keeps the cosmic clock. The delicate dawn couplet that frames his return — the east just whitening while the west still holds the moon's gold — sets sun-light and moon-light in the same balance the formula itself invoked (月藏玉兔日藏烏), so that even the scenery quietly rhymes with the teaching he carries back.
Structurally the passage is a hinge of rest. The secret has been given; what remains of the chapter will test and extend it — the looming question of the "three calamities," the seventy-two transformations, the cloud-somersault — but for these few lines the novel simply lets its hero practice in silence, mingling unremarkably with the others while the real work goes on out of sight. It is the last quiet moment before Wukong's powers, and his troubles, begin in earnest.