毫毛變匣 A Hair Becomes a Casket
好大聖,拔了一根毫毛,吹口仙氣,叫聲:「變!」變做一個紅金漆匣兒,把白玉珪放在內盛著,道:「師父,你將此物捧在手中,到天曉時,穿上錦襴袈裟,去在正殿坐著念經,等我去看看他那城池。端的是個妖怪,就打殺他,也在此間立個功績;假若不是,且休撞禍。」三藏道:「正是,正是。」好大圣,拔了一根毫毛,吹口仙气,叫声:「变!」变做一个红金漆匣儿,把白玉珪放在内盛着,道:「师父,你将此物捧在手中,到天晓时,穿上锦襕袈裟,去在正殿坐着念经,等我去看看他那城池。端的是个妖怪,就打杀他,也在此间立个功绩;假若不是,且休撞祸。」三藏道:「正是,正是。」
逐句解 Line by line
The fine Great Sage plucked a hair, blew on it a breath of immortal air, and cried, “Change!”
The standard opening move of every Wukong scheme: pull a hair, breathe on it, shout 變. 仙氣 is immortal breath; 拔了一根 keeps 一 as yì before a level tone.
It became a box of red-gold lacquer, and setting the white-jade tablet inside it, he said, “Master, take this thing and cradle it in your hands; when day breaks, put on the brocade cassock, go and sit in the main hall to chant the sutras, and let me go take a look at that city of his.
The hair becomes a red-and-gold lacquer casket, and the tablet goes inside it. Then the staging instructions: put on the brocade cassock, sit in the main hall, chant, and look like an ordinary travelling monk. 匣兒 ends in the light er; 坐著 has 著 as zhe, holding the action open; 將此物 has 將 as jiāng; 那城池 takes the pointing nà. (The sealed note reads 盛著 as chéng zhe, the verb for holding something in a vessel, where the ruby gives shèng.)
If he is truly a fiend, then to strike him dead would be to set up a merit here;
And here, unexpectedly, a note of caution. If he really is a fiend, killing him earns merit; 功績 is a meritorious deed, the kind that goes on a record. 端的 is "truly, genuinely"; 此間 is "here."
but if he is not, do not go courting disaster.”
But if not, leave it alone. 撞禍 is to run headlong into disaster. Wukong insisting on verification before violence is rare enough to be worth marking. 不是 takes 不 as bú before a falling tone.
Tripitaka said, “Just so, just so.”
正是 twice over — the same eager doubling the ghost used when Tripitaka first guessed what he wanted. Master and ghost now sound alike.
The scheme opens with a piece of routine transformation-magic — a plucked hair made into a lacquer casket to carry the tablet — and then, less routinely, with a moral precaution. Strike the king dead only if he proves to be a fiend; otherwise do not go courting disaster. Wukong demanding evidence before violence is not the reflex we usually see from him.
The apparatus is now in place: the tablet hidden in the box, Tripitaka posted in the main hall in his brocade cassock looking like any other pilgrim, and Wukong off to inspect the city from the air. Everything that follows unfolds from these few small props.