法船渡河投西 The Dharma-Boat Crosses the Sands
那悟淨不敢怠慢,即將頸項下掛的骷髏取下,用索子結作九宮,把菩薩葫蘆安在當中,請師父下岸。那長老遂登法船,坐於上面,果然穩似輕舟。左有八戒扶持,右有悟淨捧托;孫行者在後面牽了龍馬,半雲半霧相跟;頭直上又有木吒擁護。那師父才飄然穩渡流沙河界,浪靜風平過弱河。真個也如飛似箭,不多時,身登彼岸,得脫洪波;又不拖泥帶水,幸喜腳乾手燥,清淨無為,師徒們腳踏實地。那木吒按祥雲,收了葫蘆。又只見那骷髏一時解化作九股陰風,寂然不見。三藏拜謝了木吒,頂禮了菩薩。正是:那悟净不敢怠慢,即将颈项下挂的骷髅取下,用索子结作九宫,把菩萨葫芦安在当中,请师父下岸。那长老遂登法船,坐于上面,果然稳似轻舟。左有八戒扶持,右有悟净捧托;孙行者在后面牵了龙马,半云半雾相跟;头直上又有木咤拥护。那师父才飘然稳渡流沙河界,浪静风平过弱河。真个也如飞似箭,不多时,身登彼岸,得脱洪波;又不拖泥带水,幸喜脚干手燥,清净无为,师徒们脚踏实地。那木咤按祥云,收了葫芦。又只见那骷髅一时解化作九股阴风,寂然不见。三藏拜谢了木咤,顶礼了菩萨。正是:
畢竟不知幾時才得正果求經,且聽下回分解。毕竟不知几时才得正果求经,且听下回分解。
逐句解 Line by line
Wujing, not daring to be slow, took down the skulls that hung at his neck,
不敢怠慢, 'dared not be slow about it' (那 nà, 將 jiāng) — the new disciple is eager, and the first thing he does in his new post is take his own trophies off his neck.
bound them with cords into the Nine Palaces, set the Bodhisattva's gourd in the middle, and invited the master down to the bank.
結作九宮, bound into the Nine Palaces (子 the light zi, 中 zhōng) — nine skulls in a three-by-three grid with the gourd in the middle square, exactly as prescribed. What has been assembled is not a raft. It is a diagram.
The elder then stepped onto the dharma-boat and sat upon it, and indeed it was as steady as a light skiff. On the left Bajie steadied it, on the right Wujing bore it up;
穩似輕舟, 'steady as a light skiff' (那 nà, 長 zhǎng, 似 sì). Recall the stele: on this water a goose feather sinks. The one thing that was proved impossible in the opening scene is now happening, and the prose passes over it in four characters.
Sun Wukong came behind leading the dragon-horse, following half in cloud and half in mist; and directly overhead Mokṣa kept watch.
牽了龍馬, leading the dragon-horse (行 xíng, 相 xiāng), and 木吒擁護, Mokṣa guarding overhead. Everyone has a station: Bajie left, Wujing right, the monkey behind with the horse, the envoy above. After a chapter of each of them failing separately, they cross in formation.
The master then, borne lightly and steadily, crossed the bounds of the Flowing Sands; the waves stilled and the wind fell as they passed the Weak River. Truly it was as swift as a flying arrow,
飄然穩渡, 'crossed lightly and steadily' (那 nà, 似 sì), and 浪靜風平 — waves still, wind level. The river that swallowed feathers and threw up monsters simply lies down. Nothing was done to it. The right passenger list solved it.
and in no long while he set foot on the farther shore, delivered from the mighty flood;
得脫洪波, 'won free of the great flood' (得 dé). Two days, three duels, three rhapsodies and a journey to the Southern Sea, and the crossing itself takes one clause.
and without so much as trailing mud or water, dry of foot and hand — pure and unstriving — master and disciples set their feet on solid ground.
The best line in the chapter, and it works on two levels at once. 不拖泥帶水 — 'without trailing mud or dragging water' — is a live idiom meaning to do a thing cleanly, without mess or dithering; it is what you say of a decision made crisply. Here the novel switches the literal sense back on: they cross a river and arrive 腳乾手燥, dry of foot and hand (乾 is gān, dry, not qián). Then 清淨無為, 'pure and unstriving' — 無為 being the great Daoist term for acting without forcing (為 wéi). And 腳踏實地, feet on solid ground: the same phrase Bajie shouted across the water when he was trying to lure the demon ashore. It failed as a taunt. It arrives here as an achievement.
Mokṣa then brought down his auspicious cloud and took back the gourd; and behold, the skulls at once dissolved into nine streams of dark wind,
解化作九股陰風, 'dissolved into nine strands of shadowy wind' (那 nà twice). The skulls do not sink or scatter; they come undone. Their office is finished, and the novel disposes of them with one last touch of the uncanny — a reminder, at the moment of arrival, of what the boat was made of.
and were silently gone. Sanzang bowed his thanks to Mokṣa and did reverence toward the Bodhisattva. It is aptly said:
頂禮了菩薩, prostrating toward the Bodhisattva (藏 zàng) — she is not present, and he bows to her anyway. Then 正是, 'and so it is aptly said,' the tag that brings on the closing couplet.
Mokṣa went straight back to the Eastern Ocean; Sanzang mounted his horse and turned again toward the west.
The closing couplet, two clauses moving in opposite directions: 木吒 (Mokṣa) turns back east to Guanyin's sea, while 三藏 — with 藏 carrying the zàng — gets back on his horse and heads west. The episode closes and the road reopens in a single line.
In the end, there is no knowing when they will at last attain the true fruit and win the scriptures; so listen to the next chapter for the explanation.
The storyteller's sign-off, unchanged for a hundred chapters. 正果, the 'true fruit,' is the final attainment the whole journey is for (得 dé), and 且聽下回分解, 'pray hear the next instalment explain it' (分 fēn), is where every chapter stops. They have gained a disciple and crossed a river. They are no nearer knowing when it ends.
The crossing, withheld for the whole chapter, is over in a few strokes — and the manner of it is the point. The dharma-boat, made of the demon's own nine skulls with Guanyin's gourd at the centre, carries the mortal master 'steady as a light skiff' over the very water that would not float a feather. The company arranges itself around him, the wind drops, the waves go flat. What defeated two days of force yields at once to a sacred vessel, and the reader is meant to notice that nothing was done to the river at all.
The landing is written with unusual care. They come ashore 腳乾手燥, dry of hand and foot, 不拖泥帶水 — an idiom for doing something cleanly, restored here to its literal sense — and 清淨無為, 'pure and unstriving,' which is the Daoist phrase for achieving by not forcing. Every word of that describes the chapter's own argument. Three duels and a hawk-stoop got them nowhere; a name spoken over the water got them across without wetting their shoes.
Then the ritual furniture is cleared away. The skulls come undone into nine strands of dark wind and are gone; Mokṣa takes back the gourd and returns to Guanyin's ocean; Sanzang bows his thanks, mounts, and turns west again. The company is now complete — the monkey, the dragon-horse, Bajie and the newly won Sha Wujing — and the pilgrimage resumes toward a true fruit that, as the narrator cheerfully reminds us in the last line, is still nowhere in sight.