賊心不死 The Fiend Persists
卻說那妖精原來行者第二棍也不曾打殺他。那怪物在半空中誇獎不盡道:「好個猴王,著然有眼,我那般變了去,他也還認得我。這些和尚他去得快,若過此山,西下四十里,就不伏我所管了。若是被別處妖魔撈了去,好道就笑破他人口,使碎自家心。我還下去戲他一戲。」却说那妖精原来行者第二棍也不曾打杀他。那怪物在半空中夸奖不尽道:「好个猴王,着然有眼,我那般变了去,他也还认得我。这些和尚他去得快,若过此山,西下四十里,就不伏我所管了。若是被别处妖魔捞了去,好道就笑破他人口,使碎自家心。我还下去戏他一戏。」
逐句解 Line by line
Now the story tells how, this second blow of Pilgrim's having again failed to kill it,
The same confirmation as before, delivered flat: the second blow killed nothing either. The reader is being kept deliberately ahead of the pilgrims, and the gap between what we know and what they believe is now two corpses wide. (那 points, nà; 行 is xíng.)
the monster, up in mid-air, praised him without end: "What a fine Monkey King — truly he has eyes in his head! However I changed myself, he knew me still.
She praises him. Again. 著然有眼 — he really does have eyes — with 著 read zhuó, the same reading it takes in 著實. There is something almost professional about it, one craftsman acknowledging another's work. The single character in this chapter who consistently rates Wukong correctly is the demon trying to eat his master. (不 rises to bú in 不盡, before the falling tone of 盡; both instances of 那 point, nà; 還 is hái and 得 is toneless.)
"These monks travel fast: once they cross this mountain and get forty lǐ to the west, they'll be out of my domain.
Now the operational detail, and it is oddly bureaucratic: forty lǐ to the west — twenty kilometres or so — and the pilgrims leave her jurisdiction. Demons in this novel hold territory much as officials hold a posting, and outside her own patch she has no claim on anybody. The clock is running. (得 in 去得快 is the toneless complement marker.)
"And if some fiend of another quarter were to snatch him off, wouldn't that split my sides with vexation and break my heart to bits?
笑破他人口,使碎自家心 — split other people's mouths with laughing and shatter your own heart — is a wonderfully physical way of naming the particular misery of being scooped by a rival. She is not chiefly afraid of losing the monk. She is afraid of being laughed at.
"I'll go down and have yet another game with him."
The same words a third time. Third performance, and the last.
The return to the demon's vantage keeps the reader ahead of the pilgrims a second time: the mourned killing was again an illusion, and the fiend lives to try once more. Her renewed, grudging praise — he really does have eyes — is the monster's own testimony to the sight the master persists in doubting.
The calculation adds urgency. Her power reaches only as far as this mountain; beyond it the monk escapes for good, or worse, some rival fiend takes the prize and she becomes a joke. The White-Bone Demon is nothing if not persistent — undeterred by two failures, she settles on a third disguise, and the reader can feel that this cycle has to resolve.
With the third invitation to have another game the chapter enters its final movement. Twice she has tried and escaped. The third attempt, and Wukong's answer to it, will bring both her real death and the rupture between master and disciple to a head.