高探馬勢 The Feint of the Staff
他兩個戰有五六十合,不分勝負。行者心中暗喜道:「這個潑怪,他那口刀倒也抵得住老孫的這根棒。等老孫丟個破綻與他,看他可認得?」好猴王,雙手舉棍,使一個「高探馬」的勢子。那怪不識是計,見有空兒,舞著寶刀,徑奔下三路砍;被行者急轉個「大中平」,挑開他那口刀,又使個「葉底偷桃勢」,望妖精頭頂一棍,就打得他無影無蹤。急收棍子看處,不見了妖精。他两个战有五六十合,不分胜负。行者心中暗喜道:「这个泼怪,他那口刀倒也抵得住老孙的这根棒。等老孙丢个破绽与他,看他可认得?」好猴王,双手举棍,使一个「高探马」的势子。那怪不识是计,见有空儿,舞着宝刀,径奔下三路砍;被行者急转个「大中平」,挑开他那口刀,又使个「叶底偷桃势」,望妖精头顶一棍,就打得他无影无踪。急收棍子看处,不见了妖精。
逐句解 Line by line
The two of them fought some fifty or sixty bouts, with neither victory nor defeat decided.
五六十合, wǔ liù shí hé, fifty or sixty bouts — a 合 being one exchange of arms, the unit fights are counted in. 不分勝負, bù fēn shèng fù, with neither winning: an honest stalemate, and Wukong is not used to those.
Pilgrim rejoiced secretly, "This vile fiend — that blade of his can, after all, hold off old Sun's staff.
抵得住, dǐ de zhù, able to hold it off; 倒也, dào yě, "after all, contrary to expectation." He is genuinely impressed, and that is what makes him change tactics.
Let old Sun throw him an opening, and see whether he knows it for what it is."
丟破綻, diū pò zhàn, to throw somebody an opening — a 破綻 is literally a burst seam in a garment, so the phrase is about deliberately showing a weak place. Still the ordinary Chinese for a flaw in an argument or an alibi.
The brave Monkey King, raising his staff in both hands, made the posture called 'High Reach for the Horse.'
And now the technical vocabulary of the fencing hall. 高探馬, gāo tàn mǎ, "High Reach for the Horse," is a named staff posture; 勢子, shì zi, a stance. Anyone who has watched a taijiquan form will know the name.
The fiend, not seeing the ruse, spied the opening and, brandishing his blade, drove straight down for the lower line; but Pilgrim, swiftly shifting to 'Great Central Level,' struck the blade aside, and then, with 'Stealing the Peach beneath the Leaves,' brought his staff down on the fiend's crown — and struck him clean out of sight.
Three named moves in one sentence, and they win the fight. 下三路, xià sān lù, the lower lines of attack — the demon goes for the legs, exactly as invited. 大中平, dà zhōng píng, "Great Central Level," knocks the blade aside, and then 葉底偷桃, yè dǐ tōu táo, "Stealing the Peach beneath the Leaves," comes up under the guard onto the crown of the head. The peach in the name is not accidental; stealing them is what this particular fighter is famous for.
Hastily drawing back his staff to look, he found the fiend nowhere to be seen.
收棍, shōu gùn, to draw the staff back; 不見了, bù jiàn le, gone, vanished. The blow landed and there is nothing there, which is not at all what was supposed to happen.
The turn from stalemate to stratagem is pure Wukong. Recognising that the blade can genuinely withstand his staff, he abandons force for a feint, baits an opening, and lands a crowning blow through a rapid sequence of named postures. The technical vocabulary of the staff-forms gives the combat the flavour of a martial-arts manual, a texture the novel enjoys in its set-piece fights.
The blow lands, and produces not a corpse but a disappearance — and this small surprise pivots the episode from combat to mystery. The vanishing that ought to have signalled victory unsettles the Great Sage instead, and prepares the deduction that will turn the chapter from the demon's cave toward the courts of Heaven.