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Reader's edition
燒餅誘妖
The Baited Bearers
行了五六里遠近，他就坐在石崖上，等候那擡轎的到了，行者道：「略歇歇如何？壓得肩頭疼啊。」小怪那知甚麼訣竅，就把轎子歇下。行者在轎後，胸脯上拔下一根毫毛，變做一個大燒餅，抱著啃。轎夫道：「長官，你吃的是甚麼？」行者道：「不好說。這遠的路，來請奶奶，沒些兒賞賜，肚裡饑了，原帶來的乾糧，等我吃些兒再走。」轎夫道：「把些兒我們吃吃。」行者笑道：「來麼，都是一家人，怎麼計較？」那小妖不知好歹，圍住行者，分其乾糧。行了五六里远近，他就坐在石崖上，等候那抬轿的到了，行者道：「略歇歇如何？压得肩头疼啊。」小怪那知甚么诀窍，就把轿子歇下。行者在轿后，胸脯上拔下一根毫毛，变做一个大烧饼，抱着啃。轿夫道：「长官，你吃的是甚么？」行者道：「不好说。这远的路，来请奶奶，没些儿赏赐，肚里饥了，原带来的干粮，等我吃些儿再走。」轿夫道：「把些儿我们吃吃。」行者笑道：「来么，都是一家人，怎么计较？」那小妖不知好歹，围住行者，分其干粮。
逐句解 Line by line
行了五六里遠近，他就坐在石崖上，等候那擡轎的到了，行者道：「略歇歇如何？壓得肩頭疼啊。」小怪那知甚麼訣竅，就把轎子歇下。
行了五六里远近，他就坐在石崖上，等候那抬轿的到了，行者道：「略歇歇如何？压得肩头疼啊。」小怪那知甚么诀窍，就把轿子歇下。
When they had gone some five or six li, he sat down on a rock ledge to wait for the sedan-bearers to come up, and said: “How about a short rest? My shoulders are pressed sore.” The little fiends, knowing nothing of any trick, set the sedan down.
等候那擡轎的 děng hòu nà tái jiào de, waiting for the sedan-bearers, pointing 那. 壓得肩頭疼 yā de jiān tóu téng, pressed until the shoulders ache — a nice touch, since he is not carrying anything. 那知甚麼訣竅 nǎ zhī shén me jué qiào, how would they know any trick — the nǎ of a question that expects no answer, and here the narrator is already sighing over the bearers' fate.
行者在轎後，胸脯上拔下一根毫毛，變做一個大燒餅，抱著啃。轎夫道：「長官，你吃的是甚麼？」
行者在轿后，胸脯上拔下一根毫毛，变做一个大烧饼，抱着啃。轿夫道：「长官，你吃的是甚么？」
From behind the sedan, Pilgrim plucked a hair from his chest, turned it into a large baked cake, and sat hugging it and gnawing. The bearers said: “Officer, what is it you're eating?”
大燒餅 dà shāo bǐng, a large baked cake — conjured out of a chest-hair, so the bait costs him nothing. 抱著啃 bào zhe kěn, hugging it and gnawing, with the ongoing zhe: the posture of a man who does not intend to share, which is exactly the point. 長官 zhǎng guān, officer — 長 read zhǎng.
行者道：「不好說。這遠的路，來請奶奶，沒些兒賞賜，肚裡饑了，原帶來的乾糧，等我吃些兒再走。」轎夫道：「把些兒我們吃吃。」行者笑道：「來麼，都是一家人，怎麼計較？」那小妖不知好歹，圍住行者，分其乾糧。
行者道：「不好说。这远的路，来请奶奶，没些儿赏赐，肚里饥了，原带来的干粮，等我吃些儿再走。」轿夫道：「把些儿我们吃吃。」行者笑道：「来么，都是一家人，怎么计较？」那小妖不知好歹，围住行者，分其干粮。
Pilgrim said: “Hard to say. It's a long road, coming to invite Grandma, with never a bit of reward; I got hungry, so here's the dry rations I brought along — let me eat a little before we go on.” The bearers said: “Give us a bit to eat too.” Pilgrim laughed: “Come on then — we're all one household; why stand on ceremony?” Those little imps, knowing no better, crowded round Pilgrim to share the rations.
沒些兒賞賜 méi xiē er shǎng cì, not a scrap of reward, with the diminutive er — a grumble about the bosses is the fastest way to be taken for a colleague. 原帶來的乾糧 yuán dài lái de gān liáng, the dry rations I brought along, 乾 read gān, dry. Then the invitation: 怎麼計較 zěn me jì jiào, why stand on ceremony. The narrator's verdict on them is 不知好歹, unable to tell good from bad — a phrase still in daily use, and rarely so literally earned.
總評 Commentary
The ambush is a small masterpiece of misdirection. The complaint of sore shoulders is the pretext to halt; the conjured cake and the show of gnawing are the lure; and the affable "we're all one household" is the trap opening its jaws. Every gesture trades on the couriers' assumption of kinship, the same false fellowship the password bought earlier, and their ignorance is stated twice over: 那知甚麼訣竅 and 不知好歹, they know no trick and know no better.
The cruelty is masked by geniality. The bearers are killed for crowding round a snack, undone by ordinary appetite and by trusting that they share a master's table. The narrator lingers on the homely bait — dry rations, a grumble about stinginess, an invitation to help themselves — precisely because the domesticity makes what follows colder. Wukong sets the table, and the imps sit down to it.