三指三噤 Three Points and Three Shudders
眾怪都不看見。二魔用手指道：「那不是？」那三藏就在馬上打了一個寒噤；又一指，又打個寒噤。一連指了三指，他就一連打了三個寒噤。心神不寧道：「徒弟啊，我怎麼打寒噤麼？」沙僧道：「打寒噤想是傷食病發了。」行者道：「胡說，師父是走著這深山峻嶺，必然小心虛驚。莫怕，莫怕，等老孫把棒打一路與你壓壓驚。」众怪都不看见。二魔用手指道：「那不是？」那三藏就在马上打了一个寒噤；又一指，又打个寒噤。一连指了三指，他就一连打了三个寒噤。心神不宁道：「徒弟啊，我怎么打寒噤么？」沙僧道：「打寒噤想是伤食病发了。」行者道：「胡说，师父是走著这深山峻岭，必然小心虚惊。莫怕，莫怕，等老孙把棒打一路与你压压惊。」
逐句解 Line by line
Not one of the fiends could see it.
都不 (dōu bù), “none at all”; 都 is the totalizing dōu, “all.” Only the captain has the eye for the aura; his troops are blind to it.
The second fiend pointed with his hand and said: “Is that not he?”
那 (nà) is here the deictic “that,” pointing — distinct from the interrogative nǎ a few lines above. 用手指, “pointed with his finger.”
At that, Tripitaka, up on his horse, gave a cold shudder; another point, another shudder.
寒噤 (hán jìn), “a cold shiver, a chill shudder.” The demon's pointing finger acts on the master's body directly — his flesh answers the aim before his mind knows it is a target.
Three points in a row, and three shudders in a row he gave.
一連 (yì lián), “in unbroken succession, one after another.” The tripling — three points, three shudders — carries the ritual insistence of the folk omen, matching the three-in-a-row that structures much of the chapter.
Uneasy in mind and spirit, he said: “Disciples — why is it I keep shuddering with cold?”
心神不寧 (xīn shén bù níng), “unquiet in heart and spirit.” Tripitaka feels the omen but cannot name its cause; the sentence-final 麼 (me) marks the puzzled question.
Sha Monk said: “The shivering is likely an attack of indigestion coming on.”
傷食 (shāng shí), “food-injury, indigestion”; 病發 (bìng fā), “the ailment breaking out.” Sha Monk gives the mundane misreading — the omen taken for a stomach complaint.
Pilgrim said: “Nonsense — Master, walking these deep hills and steep ridges, is bound to take fright at shadows out of caution.
胡說 (hú shuō), “nonsense, talking rot.” 走著 (zǒu zhe) takes the durative 著 (zhe), “in the course of walking”; 虛驚 (xū jīng), “a false alarm, fright at nothing.”
“No fear, no fear — let old Monkey ply his cudgel the whole way along and beat the fright out of you.”
壓驚 (yā jīng), “to allay a fright, settle the nerves”; the reduplication 壓壓驚 is playful, “give the nerves a good settling.” 與你 (yǔ nǐ), “for you.”
Here the chapter's central omen unfolds in a threefold rhythm: three thrusts of the demon's finger, three cold shudders of the master's body. It is dramatic irony at full stretch — Tripitaka's flesh knows itself marked while his mind gropes for a cause — and it stages the party's three temperaments in their responses. Sha Monk offers a digestive complaint; the master can only ask why; Pilgrim alone senses that caution, not sickness, is at work.
Pilgrim's remedy is characteristically his own: not prayer or vigilance but a display of the iron cudgel, “the whole way along,” to “beat the fright out.” The proposal both reassures the master and cues the bravura staff-routine that opens the next scene, where Pilgrim's martial flourish will so alarm the watching demon that it nearly unmans the fiend before the contest has begun.