又逐行者 Dismissed Again
唐僧道：「有甚話說？出家人耳聽善言，不墮地獄。我這般勸化你，你怎麼只是行兇？把平人打死一個，又打死一個，此是何說？」行者道：「他是妖精。」唐僧道：「這個猴子胡說，就有這許多妖怪？你是個無心向善之輩，有意作惡之人，你去罷。」唐僧道：「有甚话说？出家人耳听善言，不堕地狱。我这般劝化你，你怎么只是行凶？把平人打死一个，又打死一个，此是何说？」行者道：「他是妖精。」唐僧道：「这个猴子胡说，就有这许多妖怪？你是个无心向善之辈，有意作恶之人，你去罢。」
逐句解 Line by line
The Tang Monk said, "What have you to say?
The identical four words he used the first time. The scene is repeating, deliberately — but the temperature has changed. (甚 is shén.)
"A monk whose ear heeds good words will not fall into hell.
A proverb, and a comfortable one: listen to good advice and you will not end up in hell. 墮 (duò) is to fall, to sink down into. Note the shape of the rebuke — he is not arguing with Wukong, he is instructing him. That is a colder posture than anger.
"Here I am, urging and reforming you — how is it you do nothing but violence?
勸化 (quàn huà) is to exhort somebody into reforming — the word a missionary would use. He sincerely believes he is rehabilitating a killer. He is punishing a bodyguard. (行 is xíng, "to do, to act".)
"You struck one innocent dead, and now another — what account can you give of that?"
One innocent, then another. Put like that it is unanswerable, and it is entirely untrue: both bodies are shells the demon walked out of. The elder has a perfect record of the facts and no idea what a single one of them means. (平人 is a civilian, somebody with no part in the matter.)
Said Pilgrim, "She is a fiend."
Four words. That is the whole defence. He has pleaded, reasoned, produced physical evidence and confessed his own criminal past, and none of it worked — so he has stopped trying to persuade and states the fact bare. It is what people do when they have given up on being believed.
The Tang Monk said, "This monkey talks nonsense — could there be so very many demons?
And here is the flaw the demon has been aiming at from the beginning. Surely there cannot be that many monsters. It is a reasonable assumption — most of the people you meet on a road are people — and it is precisely wrong here. Every fresh disguise makes the previous unmasking look more absurd, so the more often Wukong turns out to be right, the madder he sounds. (猴子 takes the toneless zi.)
"You are one with no heart set on goodness, a man bent on doing evil. Off with you."
Notice what has changed. Last time he condemned an act; this time he condemns a nature — a creature with no inclination toward good, a man of deliberate malice. That is a far larger charge, and it comes in the balanced, formal phrasing of a verdict rather than a rebuke. The compassion has cooled into contempt.
The second dismissal is the first one hardened. Where before the elder rebuked an act, here he condemns a nature: one with no heart for good, a man bent on evil. The compassion that pardoned so readily an hour ago has curdled, under Bajie's influence and the shock of a second body, into settled contempt.
Wukong's defence has contracted to match. Having pleaded and reasoned at length before, he now offers four blunt words — she is a fiend — the bare truth with the persuasion stripped off. He appears to have concluded that eloquence is no use against a mind already made up. The elder hears even this as nonsense.
The exchange lays the trap bare. Tripitaka's incredulity — surely there cannot be so very many demons? — is precisely the assumption the serial disguises are built to exploit. Each new ordinary-looking figure makes the last unmasking seem more absurd than the one before, so the more often Wukong is right, the more he looks like a compulsive killer, and the deeper the elder's error sets.