第三十六回 · 重整投西 Setting Out Again for the West — Journey to the West

原文 Original text 繁體 Traditional Reader's edition

重整投西 Setting Out Again for the West

卻què說shuō孫sūn行xíng者zhě按àn落luò雲yún頭tóu，對duì師shī父fù備bèi言yán菩pú薩sà借jiè童tóng子zi，老lǎo君jūn收shōu去qù寶bǎo貝bèi之zhī事shì。三sān藏zàng稱chēng謝xiè不bù已yǐ，死sǐ心xīn塌tā地dì辦bàn虔qián誠chéng，捨shě命mìng投tóu西xī，攀pān鞍ān上shàng馬mǎ，豬zhū八bā戒jiè挑tiāo著zhe行xíng李lǐ，沙shā和hé尚shàng攏lǒng著zhe馬mǎ頭tóu，孫sūn行xíng者zhě執zhí了le鐵tiě棒bàng，剖pōu開kāi路lù，徑jìng下xià高gāo山shān前qián進jìn。說shuō不bú盡jìn那nà水shuǐ宿sù風fēng餐cān，披pī霜shuāng冒mào露lù。却què说shuō孙sūn行xíng者zhě按àn落luò云yún头tóu，对duì师shī父fù备bèi言yán菩pú萨sà借jiè童tóng子zi，老lǎo君jūn收shōu去qù宝bǎo贝bèi之zhī事shì。三sān藏zàng称chēng谢xiè不bù已yǐ，死sǐ心xīn塌tā地dì办bàn虔qián诚chéng，舍shě命mìng投tóu西xī，攀pān鞍ān上shàng马mǎ，猪zhū八bā戒jiè挑tiāo著zhe行xíng李lǐ，沙shā和hé尚shàng拢lǒng著zhe马mǎ头tóu，孙sūn行xíng者zhě执zhí了le铁tiě棒bàng，剖pōu开kāi路lù，径jìng下xià高gāo山shān前qián进jìn。说shuō不bú尽jìn那nà水shuǐ宿sù风fēng餐cān，披pī霜shuāng冒mào露lù。

逐句解 Line by line

卻què說shuō孫sūn行xíng者zhě按àn落luò雲yún頭tóu，對duì師shī父fù備bèi言yán菩pú薩sà借jiè童tóng子zi，老lǎo君jūn收shōu去qù寶bǎo貝bèi之zhī事shì。却què说shuō孙sūn行xíng者zhě按àn落luò云yún头tóu，对duì师shī父fù备bèi言yán菩pú萨sà借jiè童tóng子zi，老lǎo君jūn收shōu去qù宝bǎo贝bèi之zhī事shì。

Now Sun the Pilgrim brought his cloud down to earth and told his master, point by point, how the Bodhisattva had borrowed back her boys and how Lord Lao had carried off the treasures.

按落雲頭 (àn luò yún tóu) — to press the cloud-head down, i.e. to descend from flight; 備言 (bèi yán) "to relate in full." This ties directly to the close of the preceding chapter: Guanyin reclaims the Gold- and Silver-Horn lads (her two acolytes) and Lord Lao recovers his magic treasures. Here 童子 is read with 子 as the neutral zi.

三sān藏zàng稱chēng謝xiè不bù已yǐ，死sǐ心xīn塌tā地dì辦bàn虔qián誠chéng，捨shě命mìng投tóu西xī，攀pān鞍ān上shàng馬mǎ，豬zhū八bā戒jiè挑tiāo著zhe行xíng李lǐ，沙shā和hé尚shàng攏lǒng著zhe馬mǎ頭tóu，孫sūn行xíng者zhě執zhí了le鐵tiě棒bàng，剖pōu開kāi路lù，徑jìng下xià高gāo山shān前qián進jìn。三sān藏zàng称chēng谢xiè不bù已yǐ，死sǐ心xīn塌tā地dì办bàn虔qián诚chéng，舍shě命mìng投tóu西xī，攀pān鞍ān上shàng马mǎ，猪zhū八bā戒jiè挑tiāo著zhe行xíng李lǐ，沙shā和hé尚shàng拢lǒng著zhe马mǎ头tóu，孙sūn行xíng者zhě执zhí了le铁tiě棒bàng，剖pōu开kāi路lù，径jìng下xià高gāo山shān前qián进jìn。

Tripitaka gave thanks without end, and with a heart wholly settled he set himself to sincere devotion. Staking his very life on the road west, he gripped the saddle and mounted; Zhu Eight Rules shouldered the luggage, Sha the Monk led the horse by its head, and Sun the Pilgrim, iron rod in hand, cleared the way and struck straight down the high mountain, pressing on.

死心塌地 (sǐ xīn tā dì) is an idiom — "mind fixed, feet planted" — for being utterly resolved; 捨命投西 "to cast away one's life and turn toward the West." The disciples' fixed marching-order — Eight Rules with the load, Sha at the horse, the Pilgrim breaking trail — recurs as a formula throughout the pilgrimage. 挑著 / 攏著 both take the durative zhe.

說shuō不bú盡jìn那nà水shuǐ宿sù風fēng餐cān，披pī霜shuāng冒mào露lù。说shuō不bú尽jìn那nà水shuǐ宿sù风fēng餐cān，披pī霜shuāng冒mào露lù。

There is no telling all their nights lodged by the water and meals taken in the wind, braving frost and breasting the dew.

說不盡 (shuō bú jìn) "cannot be told to the end" — a storyteller's formula for compressing hard travel; 水宿風餐 and 披霜冒露 are set four-graph phrases for the privations of the road. Because 盡 is read jìn (fourth tone), the preceding 不 takes its sandhi form bú.

總評 Commentary

This chapter opens exactly where the last one closed. The Level-Top Mountain and Lotus-Flower Cave episode — the ordeal of Gold-Horn and Silver-Horn — is over; the Bodhisattva has reclaimed her two boys and Lord Lao his gourd and vial. Wú Chéng'ēn's single sentence of recap does double work: it lets a reader catch up on the previous chapter, and it re-establishes the pilgrimage's forward motion. Note the moral key struck at once — Tripitaka's 死心塌地辦虔誠 ("with a heart wholly settled, he set himself to sincere devotion") frames the trials to come as a test of resolve rather than merely of force.

The formulaic assignment of roles — Eight Rules to the baggage, Sha to the horse, the Pilgrim breaking trail — is one of the novel's steadying devices, a fixed choreography against which each new adventure is measured. And the closing 說不盡 ("there is no telling…") is a hallmark of the vernacular storyteller, who gestures at hardships he will not narrate in full and hurries the party toward the next real obstacle — which, as the very next line reveals, is another mountain already rising to bar the way.