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。上写著:
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.
袖中 (中 = zhōng) = "from within [his] sleeve." 平安 ("peace, all well") is the reassurance conventionally written on the outer fold of a family letter. 一發手軟 = "his hands grew all the more limp" — the sight of his daughter's hand unmans him, and he cannot break the seal.
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:
翰林院大學士 = "a Grand Academician of the Hanlin Academy," the court's most learned literary official. 側耳聽書 = "to incline the ear to hear the letter." 上寫著 (著 = zhe) = "written thereon was" — the narrator's lead-in to the letter that follows.
The passage is built almost entirely of small, telling gestures. The reassurance 平安 ("all is well"), written by custom on the fold of a family letter, is precisely what disarms the king — the sight of his lost daughter's hand leaves him too unmanned to break the seal himself. The novel lingers on this weakness of the hands, a physical sign of a grief that has become unbearable at the very moment it is answered.
The reading is then given the full apparatus of a court occasion: a Grand Academician of the Hanlin summoned to read aloud, the officials ranged before the hall and the consorts and palace-women behind, every ear inclined. The staging heightens the letter to a public event, so that when the princess's own words are at last unfolded — on the narrator's lead-in 上寫著 — they fall not upon the king alone but upon the assembled court, and the grief of the next scene is made collective from the start.