手書貶書 The Dismissal Written
唐僧見他言言語語，越添惱怒，滾鞍下馬來，叫沙僧包袱內取出紙筆，即於澗下取水，石上磨墨，寫了一紙貶書，遞於行者道：「猴頭，執此為照，再不要你做徒弟了；如再與你相見，我就墮了阿鼻地獄。」行者連忙接了貶書道：「師父，不消發誓，老孫去罷。」唐僧见他言言语语，越添恼怒，滚鞍下马来，叫沙僧包袱内取出纸笔，即于涧下取水，石上磨墨，写了一纸贬书，递于行者道：「猴头，执此为照，再不要你做徒弟了；如再与你相见，我就堕了阿鼻地狱。」行者连忙接了贬书道：「师父，不消发誓，老孙去罢。」
逐句解 Line by line
Seeing him go on talking and talking, the Tang Monk, more enraged than ever, slid from his saddle, told Sha Monk to fetch paper and brush from the bundle, drew water at the ravine below, ground ink on a stone, wrote out a note of dismissal, and handed it to Pilgrim: "Monkey-head, hold this as your warrant. I want you no more for a disciple;
言言語語 (yán yán yǔ yǔ) "talking on and on." 貶書 (biǎn shū) "a letter of dismissal, a writ of expulsion." 執此為照 (zhí cǐ wéi zhào) "hold this as proof," 為 (wéi) "as, to serve as" (not the purposive 為 (wèi)). The written dismissal is decisive in a way the spoken ones were not — a formal, documented severance the elder can point to.
"and if ever I see you again, may I fall into the Avīci Hell."
相見 (xiāng jiàn) "see [each other]," 相 (xiāng) "mutually." 阿鼻地獄 (Ā bí dì yù) "the Avīci Hell," the deepest and most unremitting of the Buddhist hells. The elder binds his dismissal with a terrible oath — a measure of how far his fury has carried him past the earlier reconciliations.
Pilgrim quickly took the writ of dismissal and said, "Master, no need to swear oaths — old Sun will go."
接了貶書 (jiē le biǎn shū) "took the letter of dismissal." 不消發誓 (bù xiāo fā shì) "no need to swear." Wukong's response is quiet, almost gentle — he does not argue the oath but accepts the parting, sparing the master even now the weight of his own vow.
The written dismissal marks the point of no return. The earlier expulsions were spoken in anger and undone by Wukong's pleas; this one the elder commits to paper — a 貶書, a formal writ of severance — and seals with the most dreadful of oaths, to fall into the Avīci Hell should he ever see Wukong again. The documentation and the vow together make the parting final in a way words alone never were.
Wukong's restraint is the passage's quiet power. He does not contest the writ or the oath; he takes the letter and says only 不消發誓，老孫去罷, "no need to swear oaths — old Sun will go." There is no anger left in him here, only a resigned tenderness that spares the master the burden of his own curse. The Great Sage who shook Heaven accepts his exile with more grace than the gentle monk shows in decreeing it.
The oath by the Avīci Hell is heavy with dramatic irony. Tripitaka swears never to see Wukong again on pain of the deepest hell — yet the novel will reunite them within a few chapters, when the master, captured and helpless, must beg for the very disciple he here casts out. The vow is the measure of a fury that cannot last, sworn by a man who does not know his own need.