筋斗雲法 The Somersault Cloud
悟空道:「這個卻難,卻難。」祖師道:「世上無難事,只怕有心人。」悟空聞得此言,叩頭禮拜,啟道:「師父,為人須為徹,索性捨個大慈悲,將此騰雲之法,一發傳與我罷,決不敢忘恩。」祖師道:「凡諸仙騰雲,皆跌足而起,你卻不是這般。我才見你去,連扯方才跳上。我今只就你這個勢,傳你個斤斗雲罷。」悟空又禮拜懇求,祖師卻又傳個口訣道:「這朵雲,捻著訣,念動真言,攢緊了拳,將身一抖,跳將起來,一斤斗就有十萬八千里路哩。」大眾聽說,一個個嘻嘻笑道:「悟空造化,若會這個法兒,與人家當鋪兵、送文書、遞報單,不管那裡都尋了飯吃。」師徒們天昏各歸洞府。這一夜,悟空即運神煉法,會了斤斗雲。逐日家無拘無束,自在逍遙,此亦長生之美。悟空道:「这个却难,却难。」祖师道:「世上无难事,只怕有心人。」悟空闻得此言,叩头礼拜,启道:「师父,为人须为彻,索性舍个大慈悲,将此腾云之法,一发传与我罢,决不敢忘恩。」祖师道:「凡诸仙腾云,皆跌足而起,你却不是这般。我才见你去,连扯方才跳上。我今只就你这个势,传你个斤斗云罢。」悟空又礼拜恳求,祖师却又传个口诀道:「这朵云,捻着诀,念动真言,攒紧了拳,将身一抖,跳将起来,一斤斗就有十万八千里路哩。」大众听说,一个个嘻嘻笑道:「悟空造化,若会这个法儿,与人家当铺兵、送文书、递报单,不管那里都寻了饭吃。」师徒们天昏各归洞府。这一夜,悟空即运神炼法,会了斤斗云。逐日家无拘无束,自在逍遥,此亦长生之美。
逐句解 Line by line
Wukong said: "That's hard, that's hard."
卻難 — "that's hard, that's hard," with 卻 as an intensifier. Note the shape of it. He has spent the whole chapter saying 不學不學 to everything offered him. This is the first thing he has wanted and thought beyond his reach.
The Patriarch said: "There is nothing hard in the world — one only fears a person with a will."
世上無難事,只怕有心人 — nothing in the world is hard; difficulty is only afraid of a person with a will. A genuine and thoroughly current proverb, the sort of thing painted on classroom walls. 有心人 is one of resolve.
Hearing this, Wukong bowed his head in worship and said respectfully: "Master, in doing a kindness one should see it through; just dispense a great mercy and pass me this cloud-soaring method all at once — I shall surely never forget the kindness."
He takes the proverb as an opening and pounces. 為人須為徹 is another saying — if you're going to do somebody a kindness, see it through — and note the two lives of 為 inside five characters: wèi, "for the sake of," then wéi, "to do." 索性 is "just, may as well," and 一發 is "while you're at it, all in one go." He is haggling with his own master, and doing it charmingly. (一發 is yì fā; 不敢 keeps bù.)
The Patriarch said: "All the immortals soar by springing up from a stamp of the foot — but you are not like that. Just now I saw you rise only with a tumbling pull. So I will work from this very motion of yours, and pass you the somersault-cloud."
And here is the finest piece of teaching in the chapter. Other immortals take off by stamping — 跌足而起 — and Wukong does not; so the master, having watched him tumble, does not correct the motion but builds on it. 我今只就你這個勢, "I'll work from this very posture of yours" (勢 is the shape of a movement). The 斤斗雲, written elsewhere 筋斗雲 — the somersault-cloud — is therefore designed around one particular monkey's bad habits. (不是 takes bú.)
Wukong bowed again and earnestly begged, and the Patriarch passed him another formula: "For this cloud, make the hand-sign, recite the true words, clench your fists tight, give your body a shake and leap up — and one somersault carries you a hundred and eight thousand li."
The method, and it is entirely physical: make the hand-sign (捻著訣, 捻 niǎn), speak the true words, clench the fists (攢 cuán), shake the body, jump. Then the number. A hundred and eight thousand 里 in one bound — and hold on to that figure, because it is exactly the distance the pilgrims will later be told separates China from the Buddha's mountain. The entire journey of the novel, in a single hop. (一抖 and 一斤斗 are both yì; the 將 of 跳將起來 is a little linking syllable, jiāng.)
Hearing this, the others giggled one and all: "What luck Wukong has! If he knows this trick, he could serve as a relay-courier for people, carrying documents and dispatches, and find a meal wherever he goes."
And the other disciples immediately think of the postal service. A 鋪兵 (pù bīng) is a relay runner on the imperial courier network, and with a power that crosses the world in an instant, the best they can picture is steady work carrying dispatches and a meal at the end of it. It is a superb joke, and it tells you exactly what these men are. 當 is dāng, to serve as, not dàng as in 當鋪 (dàng pù), a pawnshop; 那裡 takes 那 as nǎ, wherever. (一個個 is yí gè gè; 不管 keeps bù.)
At dusk master and disciples each went back to their dwellings.
天昏 is dusk, and everybody goes home to bed.
That night Wukong circulated his spirit and worked the method, and mastered the somersault-cloud.
Everybody except one. 運神煉法 is to circulate the spirit and work the method, and by morning he has it. (這一夜 is yí yè.)
Day after day he was free and unfettered, at ease and carefree — and this too was a delight of his long life.
無拘無束 is free and unfettered, and 逍遙 is the untrammelled wandering of the 《莊子》's opening chapter, 逍遙遊 — the great Chinese image of the unconstrained life. 逐日家 is "day after day," with 家 as a colloquial suffix. Then the narrator's verdict: 此亦長生之美, this too is one of the good things about living forever. The whole apprenticeship comes to rest on that quiet sentence.
Here Wukong receives the power that, with his iron cudgel, will become his signature: the 筋斗雲, the somersault-cloud. The detail that matters is pedagogical. The master does not impose a standard technique; he builds the new power on Wukong's own clumsy tumbling motion — 我今只就你這個勢,傳你個斤斗雲, "I will work from this very posture of yours." The gift is cut to fit the monkey's nature, the somersault he was already turning transmuted into a stride across the world. And the formula is as concrete and physical as the elixir-verse before it — hand-sign, true words, clenched fists, a shake, a leap — keeping up the novel's insistence that the Way is a craft with exact moves rather than a vague mysticism.
The figure attached to it — 一斤斗就有十萬八千里, a hundred and eight thousand 里 at a single bound — is one of the most resonant numbers in the book. It is precisely the distance the pilgrims will later be told lies between China and the Buddha's Vulture Peak, so that Wukong's leap quietly measures out the whole span of the journey to come; and it sets up the great irony of the seventh chapter, where all this speed cannot carry him off the palm of the Buddha's hand. Characteristically, the novel punctures the marvel in the same breath: the other disciples, giggling, can imagine no grander use for a power that crosses the world in an instant than running the post — carrying documents and dispatches for hire, and finding a meal wherever it puts them down. The sublime and the mundane, once again, inside a single line.