老妖披掛出洞 The Old Fiend Calls for His Armour
卻說那五十個敗殘的小妖拿著些破旗、破鼓，撞入洞裡，報道：「大王，虎先鋒戰不過那毛臉和尚，被他趕下東山坡去了。」老妖聞說，十分煩惱。正低頭不語，默思計策，又有把前門的小妖道：「大王，虎先鋒被那毛臉和尚打殺了，拖在門口罵戰哩。」那老妖聞言，愈加煩惱道：「這廝卻也無知。我倒不曾吃他師父，他轉打殺我家先鋒，可恨！可恨！」叫：「取披掛來。我也只聞得講甚麼孫行者，等我出去，看是個甚麼九頭八尾的和尚，拿他進來，與我虎先鋒對命。」眾小妖急急擡出披掛。老妖結束齊整，綽一杆三股鋼叉，帥群妖跳出本洞。却说那五十个败残的小妖拿着些破旗、破鼓，撞入洞里，报道：「大王，虎先锋战不过那毛脸和尚，被他赶下东山坡去了。」老妖闻说，十分烦恼。正低头不语，默思计策，又有把前门的小妖道：「大王，虎先锋被那毛脸和尚打杀了，拖在门口骂战哩。」那老妖闻言，愈加烦恼道：「这厮却也无知。我倒不曾吃他师父，他转打杀我家先锋，可恨！可恨！」叫：「取披挂来。我也只闻得讲甚么孙行者，等我出去，看是个甚么九头八尾的和尚，拿他进来，与我虎先锋对命。」众小妖急急抬出披挂。老妖结束齐整，绰一杆三股钢叉，帅群妖跳出本洞。
逐句解 Line by line
We tell now how the fifty battered imps came tumbling into the cave, their banners torn and their drums split, and reported:
Chapter 21 picks up the wreckage of chapter 20. Five hundred imps followed the Tiger Vanguard out; fifty come back, and 敗殘 is exactly that — beaten, and cut down to a remnant. Torn banners and split drums are the vernacular novel's shorthand for a company that has stopped being a company. 拿著 takes zhe, the marker that holds one action open while a second happens inside it: they are carrying the broken gear the whole time they come tumbling in.
"Great King! The Tiger Vanguard could not stand against that hairy-faced monk, and has been driven by him down the eastern slope."
Watch what the demons call him. To the rank and file he is 毛臉和尚, "the hairy-faced monk" — never a name, just a description of the fur. That is how the imps speak of him in all three of their reports in this chapter; the fiend himself, five times over, prefers 孫行者. Nobody on that side of the door ever says 孫悟空. 戰不過 is the "could not manage it" construction: not that he refused the fight, but that he was not able to win it.
Hearing this, the old fiend was greatly vexed. He was bowing his head in silence, turning over some stratagem, when another imp — one of those who kept the front gate — came in and said,
The fiend's first instinct is not to fight but to think, and that is the whole shape of him. 默思計策 — sitting head down in silence, turning over a plan. Chapter 21 is about what it takes to get this creature out of his chair. 十分 here is not "ten parts" but the adverb "utterly," with 分 read fēn.
"Great King! The hairy-faced monk has beaten the Tiger Vanguard to death, and now drags him about before our gate, railing at us for a fight."
罵戰 is a recognised move, not a tantrum: you stand at the enemy's gate and insult him until he has to come out. The military romances are full of it. 哩 takes li, following the ruling on vernacular closing syllables made at chapter 16.
At these words the old fiend grew more vexed still, and said, "The wretch is past all knowing.
這廝, "this fellow" — dismissive, the way you would say "that character." 卻也無知, "is past all knowing": not stupid, but with no idea what he has just done.
I had not, after all, so much as eaten his master; yet he turns about and kills the Vanguard of my house. Hateful! Hateful!"
Here is the grievance that finally moves him, and it is an accounting grievance. 倒 is the adversative dào — "on the contrary, after all" — setting his own restraint against the Pilgrim's violence, and 轉, "turns about," carries the same complaint. He is saying: I did not even eat the man, and look what I get. The doubled 可恨 is the stock cry of the wronged villain everywhere in this literature.
He called out, "Bring my armour! I have only heard men talk of some Sun Xingzhe or other. Let me go out
聞得 takes de, the complement of things perceived. The interesting word is 甚麼 (shén), which here is not a question but a shrug: "some Sun Xingzhe or other." He has heard the name and thinks nothing of it, which is the last comfortable moment he will have.
and see what manner of nine-headed, eight-tailed monk he may be. I shall take him and haul him in, and he shall answer with his life for my Tiger Vanguard."
九頭八尾 is a sneer rather than a guess — nine heads, eight tails, the sort of thing a monster ought to have. He is bracing for a horror and is about to meet a small shabby ape. 對命, "to answer life for life," is blood-feud language: a life owed, and a life to be collected.
The imps hurried out with the armour. The old fiend girded himself trim and whole, snatched up a three-pronged steel trident, and at the head of his host went bounding out of the cave.
綽 takes chāo, "to snatch up" — a standing fix in this project, and worth remembering, because the identical phrase will describe the fiend arming himself a second time at the end of the chapter. 杆 is the counter for a shafted weapon and reads gǎn (the automatic tool gives gān, which is the free-standing pole). 帥 is a verb here, "to lead"; 結束 in its older sense is "to gird up, to make ready," nothing to do with finishing.
Chapter 21 begins exactly where chapter 20 broke off, and what it begins with is paperwork. A report comes in; a second report contradicts the first; and the commander has to be told twice before he will get up. The Great King of Yellow Wind is the most bureaucratic demon the pilgrims have met. He keeps a vanguard, a porter on the front gate, and a proper chain of report, and while the news arrives he sits in silence working out a plan — 默思計策. Nothing could be less like the Monkey King, who is outside that door at this moment making a scene.
What finally moves him is not the death of an officer but a point of accounting. He never ate the monk, so the debt was never run up — and here is somebody collecting it anyway. 我倒不曾吃他師父，他轉打殺我家先鋒: the two little adverbs 倒 and 轉 both mean roughly "and yet, the other way about," and between them they carry his entire sense of injury. He goes out to fight over a bookkeeping error.