非趕是遣 Not Driven Off, but Sent Home
我保唐僧的這樁事,天上地下,都曉得孫悟空是唐僧的徒弟。他倒不是趕我回來,倒是教我來家看看,送我來家自在耍子。如今只因這件事。你們卻都要仔細看守家業,依時插柳栽松,毋得廢墜。待我還去保唐僧,取經回東土,功成之後,仍回來與你們共樂天真。」眾猴各各領命。我保唐僧的这桩事,天上地下,都晓得孙悟空是唐僧的徒弟。他倒不是赶我回来,倒是教我来家看看,送我来家自在耍子。如今只因这件事。你们却都要仔细看守家业,依时插柳栽松,毋得废坠。待我还去保唐僧,取经回东土,功成之后,仍回来与你们共乐天真。」众猴各各领命。
逐句解 Line by line
This charge of mine, to guard the Tang Monk — in Heaven above and on earth below, all know that Sun Wukong is the Tang Monk’s disciple.
這樁事 (zhè zhuāng shì), this matter, this affair; 樁 a measure-word for undertakings. 都 read dōu; 曉得 with 得 as de.
It is not, after all, that he drove me back; rather he bade me come home to look in on things, and sent me home to sport at my ease.
倒 (dào) here twice adversative, “on the contrary, rather.” Wukong reframes his banishment as a leave granted — a face-saving gloss.
But now, for this one matter’s sake—
只因 (zhǐ yīn), only because of, solely on account of.
You must all, then, keep careful watch over the family estate, planting willow and pine in due season, and let nothing fall to ruin.
仔細 (zǐxì), careful, minute; 仔 read zǐ. 看守 (kānshǒu), to guard, keep watch over; 看 read kān. 毋得 (wú dé), must not; 得 read dé. 廢墜 (fèi zhuì), to let go to neglect and ruin.
Wait until I go back to guard the Tang Monk, fetch the scriptures, and return them to the Eastern Land; the work accomplished, I shall come again and share with you the joys of our unspoiled nature.”
還去 (hái qù), to go back; 還 read hái. 共樂天真 (gòng lè tiānzhēn), to share the joys of the natural, uncontrived state — the untrammelled life of the mountain.
The monkeys, one and all, received his command.
領命 (lǐng mìng), to receive and accept an order.
Wukong’s speech is a small exercise in self-vindication: unwilling to own before his subjects that Tripitaka had dismissed him, he recasts the banishment as a granted furlough — a leave to come home and look in on the estate. The doubled “on the contrary” betrays the effort of the reframing, and the reader, who knows the truth, hears the pride beneath the gloss.
Yet the charge he leaves — to tend the estate, plant in season, let nothing fall to ruin — and the promise to return once the scriptures are won, together affirm the deeper commitment that pride cannot undo. The phrase “the joys of our unspoiled nature” (天真) carries the allegory’s customary double sense, at once the carefree mountain life and the recovered, uncontrived original mind toward which the pilgrimage tends.