翰林讀書 The Letter Presented and Read
三藏袖中取出書來獻上。國王接了,見有「平安」二字,一發手軟,拆不開書。傳旨宣翰林院大學士上殿讀書。學士隨即上殿。殿前有文武多官,殿後有后妃宮女,俱側耳聽書。學士拆開朗誦。上寫著:三藏袖中取出书来献上。国王接了,见有「平安」二字,一发手软,拆不开书。传旨宣翰林院大学士上殿读书。学士随即上殿。殿前有文武多官,殿后有后妃宫女,俱侧耳听书。学士拆开朗诵。上写着:
逐句解 Line by line
Tripitaka drew the letter from his sleeve and presented it up. The king received it, and when he saw the two characters 'All is well,' his hands went the weaker for it, and he could not bring himself to open the letter.
Two characters on the outside of the letter break him before he has read a word of the inside. 平安, "safe and well," was written by custom on the outer fold of a family letter, so the recipient would know the worst had not happened before opening it — the Ming equivalent of putting "I'm OK" where it can be seen first. Seeing his daughter's handwriting say it is what finishes him: 一發手軟, "his hands went limper still," and he cannot break the seal. 袖中 takes 中 as zhōng.
He sent down an order summoning a Grand Academician of the Hanlin Academy to the hall to read the letter. The academician came up at once. Before the hall stood the many officials, civil and military; behind it stood the consorts and palace ladies, all with ears inclined to hear the letter. The academician broke the seal and read aloud. What was written was this:
So the letter is read to him instead, and read properly. A 翰林院大學士, a Grand Academician of the Hanlin Academy, was the most learned literary official at court, and summoning one to read aloud a private note from a daughter turns a family matter into a state occasion. 側耳聽書 is to incline the ear and listen; 上寫著 (著 = zhe) hands over to the text.
The passage is built almost entirely out of small physical gestures. The reassurance 平安, "all is well," written by custom on the fold of a family letter, is exactly what disarms the king; the sight of his lost daughter's hand leaves him unable to break his own seal. The novel lingers on that weakness of the hands, a bodily sign of grief become unbearable at the very moment it is being answered.
The reading is then given the full apparatus of a court occasion: a Grand Academician summoned to read aloud, the officials ranged before the hall and the consorts and palace-women behind it, every ear turned. The staging lifts a private letter into a public event, so that when the princess's own words are finally unfolded they fall not on the king alone but on the assembled court — and the grief of the next scene is collective from its first line.