Canonical Classics ← 第二十六回
第二十六回
sūnkōngsāndǎoqiúfāng
guānshìyīngānquánhuóshù

Sun Wukong Seeks a Cure Among the Three Isles · Guanyin's Sweet Spring Revives the Tree

悟空備述
模式 Mode Read Study
拼音 Pinyin Off
字體 Script
原文 Original text 繁體 Traditional Reader's edition

悟空備述 Wukong Recounts the Affair

xíngzhědào:「menqiánzàiguànxiānzàijiāzhǐyǒuliǎngxiǎotóngjiēdàileshīquèjiāngliǎngrénshēnguǒfèngshīshīrènzhǐshuōshìsānzhāowèi滿mǎndeháitóngzàisānchītóngjiùchīlecéngràngdemenshìlǎosūnjiùtōulesānxiōngsānrénchīletóngzhīgāozéiqiánzéihòudezhùshìlǎosūnnǎoleshùlegùntuīdǎozàishùshàngguǒziquánkāiluògēnchūzhīshānglexiǎngtóngguānzhùmenyòubèilǎosūnniǔkāisuǒzǒuleqīngchénxiānshēnghuíjiāgǎnláiwènjiānyánsuìdòubèishǎnshǎnpáoxiùzhǎnkāixiùzidōulǒngleshéngchánsuǒbǎngkǎowènbiānqiāojiùleshìyòutáoleyòugǎnshàngjiùlǒngshēncùntiězhǐshìzhǔwěizhējiàxiōngzhèděngsānbānbīngxiǎngdezháozhèfānréngjiùbǎijiāngguǒleshīliǎngshīquèjiāngxiàyóuguōyòuzuòletuōshēnběnshìzǒuleguōdōujiànzhùjǐnyǒufēnshìyòuhǎojiǎngjiàofàngleshīshīshùguǎnhuóliǎngjiācáiānníngxiǎngzhefāngcónghǎishànglái』,yóuxiānjìngfǎngsānwèilǎoyǒushènshùdefāngerchuánjiùtángsēngtuō。」xíngzhědào:「menqiánzàiguànxiānzàijiāzhǐyǒuliǎngxiǎotóngjiēdàileshīquèjiāngliǎngrénshēnguǒfèngshīshīrènzhǐshuōshìsānzhāowèimǎndeháitóngzàisānchītóngjiùchīlecéngràngdemenshìlǎosūnjiùtōulesānxiōngsānrénchīletóngzhīgāozéiqiánzéihòudezhùshìlǎosūnnǎoleshùlegùntuīdǎozàishùshàngguǒziquánkāiluògēnchūzhīshānglexiǎngtóngguānzhùmenyòubèilǎosūnniǔkāisuǒzǒuleqīngchénxiānshēnghuíjiāgǎnláiwènjiānyánsuìdòubèishǎnshǎnpáoxiùzhǎnkāixiùzidōulǒngleshéngchánsuǒbǎngkǎowènbiānqiāojiùleshìyòutáoleyòugǎnshàngjiùlǒngshēncùntiězhǐshìzhǔwěizhējiàxiōngzhèděngsānbānbīngxiǎngdezháozhèfānréngjiùbǎijiāngguǒleshīliǎngshīquèjiāngxiàyóuguōyòuzuòletuōshēnběnshìzǒuleguōdōujiànzhùjǐnyǒufēnshìyòuhǎojiǎngjiàofàngleshīshīshùguǎnhuóliǎngjiācáiānníngxiǎngzhefāngcónghǎishànglái』,yóuxiānjìng访fǎngsānwèilǎoyǒushènshùdefāngerchuánjiùtángsēngtuō。」


逐句解 Line by line

xíngzhědào:「menqiánzàiguànxiānzàijiāzhǐyǒuliǎngxiǎotóngjiēdàileshīquèjiāngliǎngrénshēnguǒfèngshī xíngzhědào:「menqiánzàiguànxiānzàijiāzhǐyǒuliǎngxiǎotóngjiēdàileshīquèjiāngliǎngrénshēnguǒfèngshī

The pilgrim said, "The other day, when we were at his abbey, the Great Immortal was away from home, and only two young acolytes received my master; they presented two ginseng fruits to him.

Wukong now retells the last two chapters in his own brisk, self-serving version. 觀裡 is in the abbey, = guàn. The 小童 are the two boy-attendants Clear Wind and Bright Moon. ... 奉與 is to present something to someone, with the jiāng that shifts the object in front of the verb.

shīrènzhǐshuōshìsānzhāowèi滿mǎndeháitóngzàisānchī shīrènzhǐshuōshìsānzhāowèimǎndeháitóngzàisānchī

My master did not recognize them, and taking them for infants not yet three days old, refused again and again to eat.

The ginseng fruit grows in the shape of a newborn baby, which is the source of all the trouble. 三朝未滿, not yet three mornings old, uses in its day reading zhāo. Tripitaka takes one look, thinks he is being offered an infant, and refuses in pious horror -- a misunderstanding the novel has already wrung a good deal of comedy out of. 不認得 is did not recognise, with the toneless de.

tóngjiùchīlecéngràngdemen tóngjiùchīlecéngràngdemen

So the boys carried them off and ate them, without so much as offering us a share.

童子, the lads, with here the full noun-forming rather than the toneless suffix. 不曾讓得 is never got round to offering, where , toneless de, asks whether the thing could be managed at all.

shìlǎosūnjiùtōulesānxiōngsānrénchīle shìlǎosūnjiùtōulesānxiōngsānrénchīle

Then old Monkey went and stole three of them, and we three brothers ate them.

Wukong owns the theft without a flicker of embarrassment. 兄弟三人, the three brothers, means himself, Bajie and Sha Monk.

tóngzhīgāozéiqiánzéihòudezhù tóngzhīgāozéiqiánzéihòudezhù

The boys, knowing no measure, railed at us without end, calling us thieves to our faces and behind our backs.

不知高低 is not knowing high from low -- no sense of proportion, no restraint. 賊前賊後 is a lively one: thief in front, thief behind, meaning they called us thieves coming and going. Chinese still builds insults this way, sandwiching the abuse between the two halves.

shìlǎosūnnǎoleshùlegùntuīdǎozàishùshàngguǒziquánkāiluògēnchūzhīshāngle shìlǎosūnnǎoleshùlegùntuīdǎozàishùshàngguǒziquánkāiluògēnchūzhīshāngle

So old Monkey lost his temper, dealt his tree a blow of the cudgel and pushed it over on the ground: the fruit all gone, the boughs split and the leaves fallen, roots laid bare and branches broken — withered and dead.

The tree's destruction comes out in four-character bursts -- 枒開葉落, 根出枝傷 -- boughs split, leaves down, roots bare, branches broken. The clipped rhythm does the work of a demolition, and Wukong recounts it as though describing weather. 推倒 is to push over, in its topple reading dǎo.

xiǎngtóngguānzhùmenyòubèilǎosūnniǔkāisuǒzǒule xiǎngtóngguānzhùmenyòubèilǎosūnniǔkāisuǒzǒule

Little did we think the boys would lock us in — but old Monkey twisted the lock open, and off we went.

關住 is to shut in; 扭開鎖 is to wrench a lock open. The whole imprisonment gets one clause, because in Wukong's telling locks are not obstacles.

qīngchénxiānshēnghuíjiāgǎnláiwènjiānyánsuìdòubèishǎnshǎnpáoxiùzhǎnkāixiùzidōulǒngle qīngchénxiānshēnghuíjiāgǎnláiwènjiānyánsuìdòubèishǎnshǎnpáoxiùzhǎnkāixiùzidōulǒngle

The next morning the master came home and gave chase; in the midst of question and answer our words fell out, and we came to blows. But with a flick he spread his gown-sleeve and swept the whole lot of us up inside it.

Here is the Immortal's signature move: 袖裡乾坤, a whole cosmos inside the sleeve. He spreads a gown-sleeve and four pilgrims and their luggage go in like coins into a pocket. 一袖子都籠去 is swept the lot into the sleeve, read lǒng, to gather in. 清辰 is the modern 清晨, early morning; 賭鬥 is to fight it out.

shéngchánsuǒbǎngkǎowènbiānqiāojiùle shéngchánsuǒbǎngkǎowènbiānqiāojiùle

Bound about with cords and ropes, questioned under the lash and the rod, we were beaten a whole day long.

繩纏索綁 and 拷問鞭敲 are matched four-character phrases stacked one on the other -- corded and roped, questioned and whipped. Piling them up is how classical Chinese conveys that something went on and on.

shìyòutáoleyòugǎnshàngjiùlǒng shìyòutáoleyòugǎnshàngjiùlǒng

That night we escaped again, and again he overtook us and swept us up as before.

依舊籠去, swept up exactly as before, with again lǒng. The repetition is the point: the sleeve works every single time, and no amount of magic gets round it.

shēncùntiězhǐshìzhǔwěizhējiàxiōngzhèděngsānbānbīngxiǎngdezháo shēncùntiězhǐshìzhǔwěizhējiàxiōngzhèděngsānbānbīngxiǎngdezháo

He carried not an inch of steel — only a deer-tail whisk to ward and parry — yet for all our three sorts of weapons, we could not so much as land a blow.

A detail worth pausing on. Zhenyuan fights three armed opponents carrying nothing but a 麈尾 (zhǔ wěi), a deer-tail whisk -- the fly-swatter carried by Daoist adepts and by the philosophical talkers of earlier centuries, a conductor's baton for metaphysics rather than a weapon. 身無寸鐵 is without an inch of iron on him. 打得著 is to succeed in landing a blow, with the toneless de and read zháo, marking that the blow actually connects.

zhèfānréngjiùbǎijiāngguǒleshīliǎngshīquèjiāngxiàyóuguō zhèfānréngjiùbǎijiāngguǒleshīliǎngshīquèjiāngxiàyóuguō

This time he disposed of us just as before: my master and two brothers he wrapped in cloth and lacquered over, while me he set to boil in a cauldron of oil.

擺佈 is to deal with somebody, in the ominous sense. 布裹漆, wrapped in cloth and lacquered over, is the Immortal's strangest punishment -- the pilgrims varnished like furniture. Both instances of are the jiāng that puts the object first.

yòuzuòletuōshēnběnshìzǒuleguōdōu yòuzuòletuōshēnběnshìzǒuleguōdōu

I worked another of my escape-tricks and got away, and smashed his cauldron for good measure.

脫身本事 is a body-freeing feat, one of Wukong's escape transformations. 鍋都打破, smashed the whole cauldron, is the flourish he adds on the way out and clearly enjoys reporting.

jiànzhùjǐnyǒufēn jiànzhùjǐnyǒufēn

Seeing he could not hold me, he was left thoroughly nettled at me.

is vinegar, used here for sourness of temper -- 幾分醋, a few degrees of vinegar, meaning thoroughly nettled. English reaches for the same pantry when it says someone turned sour. 拿我不住 is cannot keep hold of me.

shìyòuhǎojiǎngjiàofàngleshīshīshùguǎnhuóliǎngjiācáiānníng shìyòuhǎojiǎngjiàofàngleshīshīshùguǎnhuóliǎngjiācáiānníng

So I talked him round in a friendly way: let him release my master and brothers, and I would cure his tree and warrant it live, and both sides would be at peace.

好講 is to talk something over reasonably. 管活 is to guarantee it lives -- Wukong's warranty, offered as usual before he has any idea how to honour it. 兩家才得安寧, only then would both sides have peace, with here , to attain.

xiǎngzhefāngcónghǎishànglái』,yóuxiānjìngfǎngsānwèilǎo xiǎngzhefāngcónghǎishànglái』,yóuxiānjìng访fǎngsānwèilǎo

Remembering the saying 'the remedy comes from over the sea,' I have come on purpose to tour the immortal realms and call on you three old brothers.

想著 is bearing in mind, with the durative zhe that marks a state going on. He is quoting back to the Stars the same proverb he quoted to Tripitaka -- the remedy comes from over the sea -- which is his entire research programme.

yǒushènshùdefāngerchuánjiùtángsēngtuō。」 yǒushènshùdefāngerchuánjiùtángsēngtuō。」

If you have any tree-healing prescription, pass one on to me, that I may quickly rescue the Tang Monk from his plight."

方兒 is a prescription, with the suffix er; (chuán) is to hand down or impart. After all that recital, the actual request takes half a line.


總評 Commentary

This passage is a set-piece of recapitulation -- Wukong retelling the events of the two previous chapters in his own brisk and highly favourable idiom. The technique belongs to oral storytelling, where a reciter needed to refresh his listeners' memory; here it doubles as characterisation, because the tale loses nothing of Monkey's bravado in the retelling. The theft is owned without a blush, the tree's ruin rattled off in four-character bursts, and every defeat recast as a narrow and dashing escape.

The account also reminds the reader why Wukong, for all his powers, cannot simply fight his way out. Zhenyuan owns two marvels that answer everything he has: a sleeve that swallows an entire company, and a deer-tail whisk that no weapon can touch. Only at the very end does the point of the whole recital emerge, in a plea for a remedy. The structure is itself the joke -- a torrent of self-justification narrowing down to one small request.