妖精暗恨 The Fiend's Secret Rage
卻說那妖精脫命昇空,原來行者那一棒不曾打殺妖精,妖精出神去了。他在那雲端裡咬牙切齒,暗恨行者道:「幾年只聞得講他手段,今日果然話不虛傳。那唐僧已是不認得我,將要吃飯。若低頭聞一聞兒,我就一把撈住,卻不是我的人了?不期被他走來,弄破我這勾當,又幾乎被他打了一棒。若饒了這個和尚,誠然是勞而無功也,我還下去戲他一戲。」却说那妖精脱命升空,原来行者那一棒不曾打杀妖精,妖精出神去了。他在那云端里咬牙切齿,暗恨行者道:「几年只闻得讲他手段,今日果然话不虚传。那唐僧已是不认得我,将要吃饭。若低头闻一闻儿,我就一把捞住,却不是我的人了?不期被他走来,弄破我这勾当,又几乎被他打了一棒。若饶了这个和尚,诚然是劳而无功也,我还下去戏他一戏。」
逐句解 Line by line
Now the story tells how the fiend, having escaped with its life into the sky — for that blow of Pilgrim's had not in fact killed it, the fiend having sent its spirit forth and got away —
The narrator cuts to the demon, and the first thing he does is settle the question of fact: nobody died. 出神 (chū shén) is to send the spirit out — the 元神 departs and the decoy body stays behind. We now know for certain what Tripitaka will never be told. (Both instances of 那 point, so nà.)
up among the clouds it ground its teeth, hating Pilgrim in secret: "For years I've only heard tell of his powers — and today, sure enough, the reports were no idle rumour.
咬牙切齒 (yǎo yá qiè chǐ) — clenching the teeth, grinding them — is still exactly what Chinese says of somebody incandescent with hatred. And what she is grinding her teeth over is a compliment. 話不虛傳: the stories were not exaggerated. She has been beaten, and she knows precisely by whom. (那 points, nà; 聞得 takes the toneless de.)
"That Tang Monk no longer knows me for what I am, and is on the point of eating the food.
Cold assessment, delivered like a field report: the target no longer suspects me, and was about to eat. She has stopped raging. She is reviewing the tape. (那 points, nà; 得 is toneless; 將要 takes 將 as jiāng.)
"If he'd but lowered his head to take a sniff, I'd have snatched him up in a trice — and wouldn't he have been mine?
And here is how close it came. One sniff. If he had leaned over the jar for a second she would have had him. 撈住 (lāo zhù) is to scoop up and hold fast — the verb for fishing something out of water. The doubled verb with its small 兒 tag, 聞一聞兒, makes the action tiny and casual, which is the point of it: what stood between the pilgrim and the pot was almost nothing.
"Who'd have thought he'd come striding up, spoiling this business of mine, and nearly getting a blow of the cudgel in for it?
勾當 (gòu dàng) is "business, doings", and it nearly always carries a shady odour — you would use it of a racket rather than of a trade. She is calling her own scheme by its right name. Note the reading: this 當 is dàng, not the dāng, "at", from earlier in the chapter. (不期 is "before anyone expected it".)
"If I let this monk go, it would truly be toil for nothing — I'll go down and have another game with him."
勞而無功 — effort with nothing to show for it — is a four-character phrase still in daily use for wasted work. And then the resolve, in the same words she used the first time: I'll go down and have another game with him. Second performance. (還 is hái, "again".)
The cut to the demon's vantage does two jobs at once. It settles, from the inside, that the murder the elder mourned never happened — she sent her spirit out and lives — so the reader is held in a certainty the pilgrims are denied. And it hands Wukong a compliment from the last mouth that would want to give him one: the reports were no idle rumour.
The soliloquy also shows how narrow the margin was. One incautious sniff and Tripitaka was hers; only Wukong's badly-timed, spell-punished return prevented it. The chapter keeps insisting on the disciple's indispensability at precisely the rate the master keeps discounting it.
Above all the passage names the demon's method: persistence by disguise. Undeterred, she resolves to have another game — the same word she used before she put on the first face. The White-Bone Demon does not fight. She tries, and tries again, and every fresh mask takes a little more of the party's trust away with it.