Canonical Classics ← 第二十九回
第二十九回
tuōnànjiāngliúláiguó
chéngēnjièzhuǎnshānlín

Freed from Ordeal, River-Float Comes to the Kingdom's Land · Receiving Grace, Eight Rules Turns to the Mountain Forest

百花羞
模式 Mode Read Study
拼音 Pinyin Off
字體 Script
原文 Original text 繁體 Traditional Reader's edition

百花羞 The Princess Reveals Herself

zhǎnglǎowényánlèiyǎntōukànrényuēyǒusānshíniánsuìdào:「xiāowènleshìgāidezǒujìnjiāménláiyàochījiùchīleyòuwènzěnde?」réndào:「shìchīréndejiā西xiàyǒusānbǎiyǒuzuòchéngjiàozuòbǎoxiàngguóshìguówángdesāngōngzhǔmíngjiàozuòbǎihuāxiūzhǐyīnshísānniánqiányuèshíwányuèzhōngjiānbèizhèyāozhènkuángfēngshèjiāngláizuòleshísānniánzàishēngéryǎoyīnxìnhuícháoliángnéngxiāngjiàncóngláibèizhù?」zhǎnglǎowényánlèiyǎntōukànrényuēyǒusānshíniánsuìdào:「xiāowènleshìgāidezǒujìnjiāménláiyàochījiùchīleyòuwènzěnde?」réndào:「shìchīréndejiā西xiàyǒusānbǎiyǒuzuòchéngjiàozuòbǎoxiàngguóshìguówángdesāngōngzhǔmíngjiàozuòbǎihuāxiūzhǐyīnshísānniánqiányuèshíwányuèzhōngjiānbèizhèyāozhènkuángfēngshèjiāngláizuòleshísānniánzàishēngéryǎoyīnxìnhuícháoliángnéngxiāngjiàncóngláibèizhù?」


逐句解 Line by line

zhǎnglǎowényánlèiyǎntōukànrényuēyǒusānshíniánsuìdào:「xiāowènleshìgāidezǒujìnjiāménláiyàochījiùchīleyòuwènzěnde?」 zhǎnglǎowényánlèiyǎntōukànrényuēyǒusānshíniánsuìdào:「xiāowènleshìgāidezǒujìnjiāménláiyàochījiùchīleyòuwènzěnde?」

Hearing her, the elder stole a glance through his tear-filled eyes: the woman seemed some thirty years of age. Then he said, 'Bodhisattva-lady, there is no need to ask. I am already a dead man; having walked in at your household's door, if you would eat me, then eat and be done — why ask further?'

女菩薩 ("female bodhisattva") is a courteous form of address to a laywoman, freighted here with irony given the setting. Taking her for the ogre's kin, Tripitaka meets her question with fatalistic resignation: 該死 = "doomed, deserving to die." The colloquial 要吃就吃了罷...又問怎的 sharpens the pathos with plainness of speech.

réndào:「shìchīréndejiā西xiàyǒusānbǎiyǒuzuòchéngjiàozuòbǎoxiàngguóshìguówángdesāngōngzhǔmíngjiàozuòbǎihuāxiūzhǐyīnshísānniánqiányuèshíwányuèzhōngjiānbèizhèyāozhènkuángfēngshèjiāngláizuòleshísānniánzàishēngéryǎoyīnxìnhuícháoliángnéngxiāngjiàncóngláibèizhù?」 réndào:「shìchīréndejiā西xiàyǒusānbǎiyǒuzuòchéngjiàozuòbǎoxiàngguóshìguówángdesāngōngzhǔmíngjiàozuòbǎihuāxiūzhǐyīnshísānniánqiányuèshíwányuèzhōngjiānbèizhèyāozhènkuángfēngshèjiāngláizuòleshísānniánzàishēngéryǎoyīnxìnhuícháoliángnéngxiāngjiàncóngláibèizhù?」

Said the woman: 'I am no eater of men. My home lies three hundred li and more to the west of here, where there stands a city called the Land of Precious Images. I am that king's third princess; my milk-name is Hundred-Flowers-Shy. Thirteen years ago, on the night of the fifteenth of the eighth month, in the very midst of the moon-gazing, this fiend snatched me away on a gust of wild wind; I have been his wife these thirteen years, have borne him sons and daughters here, and no word of me has ever gone back to court. When I think of my father and mother, whom I cannot see — And you, whence come you, that he has taken you captive?'

The recognition turns on her self-identification: 寶象國 ("the Land of Precious Images") and the princess 百花羞 ("Hundred-Flowers-Shy," given as a 乳名, a milk- or nursery-name). The abduction is precisely dated to the Mid-Autumn festival (八月十五, 玩月) — demonic violence breaking in upon the most domestic of lunar rites; 攝將來 uses 將 as the coverb of carrying-off, and 杳無音信 = "no trace, no tidings." 生兒育女 takes 兒 as the noun ér (sons); 不能相見, 相 the reciprocal xiāng. Her broken final question returns the exchange to Tripitaka.


總評 Commentary

This is the chapter's recognition scene, and it is built on a double irony. Tripitaka, certain he has stumbled into an ogre's larder, offers himself for the pot with a resignation that is at once pious and comically abject; the woman he addresses as 女菩薩 turns out to be no demon at all but a fellow prisoner, and a princess. Her calm disclaimer — 我不是吃人的 — punctures his fatalism and reorients the whole encounter from doom to alliance.

The princess 百花羞 is one of the novel's captive royal women, and her brief autobiography is exact in its cruelty: seized on the night of the Mid-Autumn moon-viewing thirteen years before, made a demon's wife, mother to demon children, cut off from court and kin. The choice of the eighth-month full moon — the festival of family reunion — as the moment of her abduction gives her loss its particular edge. That she has 生兒育女 by the ogre complicates the sentiment: she is bound to Baoxiang by blood and to the cave by other blood, and it is from this doubled captivity that the letter she is about to write seeks release.