單騎回城 Riding Back Alone
那太子回心道:「正是。且待我問我母親去來。」他跳起身,籠了白玉珪就走。行者扯住道:「你這些人馬都回,卻不走漏消息,我難成功?但要你單人獨馬進城,不可揚名賣弄。莫入正陽門,須從後宰門進去。到宮中見你母親,切休高聲大氣,須是悄語低言。恐那怪神通廣大,一時走了消息,你娘兒們性命俱難保也。」太子謹遵教命。出山門吩咐將官:「穩在此扎營,不得移動。我有一事,待我去了就來,一同進城。」看他:那太子回心道:「正是。且待我问我母亲去来。」他跳起身,笼了白玉珪就走。行者扯住道:「你这些人马都回,却不走漏消息,我难成功?但要你单人独马进城,不可扬名卖弄。莫入正阳门,须从后宰门进去。到宫中见你母亲,切休高声大气,须是悄语低言。恐那怪神通广大,一时走了消息,你娘儿们性命俱难保也。」太子谨遵教命。出山门吩咐将官:「稳在此扎营,不得移动。我有一事,待我去了就来,一同进城。」看他:
逐句解 Line by line
That prince, his heart turning, said, “Just so.
回心 is to turn the heart round — the two characters that mark his decision, and the answer he gives is 正是, the same eager doubling the ghost and Tripitaka both used earlier when they finally agreed to something. 那太子 takes the pointing nà and 子 as zǐ.
Let me first go and ask my mother.”
And he says 母親 — mother — rather than the formal 國母娘娘 Wukong used. The register drops to the domestic at exactly the moment the plot does. 去來 is a colloquial tag on the verb: off I go, then.
He sprang up, tucked away the white-jade tablet in his sleeve, and made to go.
He tucks the tablet into his sleeve, which is where a Chinese gentleman's pockets were. 籠了 is to gather up and stow — the sealed note reads it lǒng, against the ruby's lóng. 就走 — and off.
Pilgrim held him back and said, “If all these horse and men of yours return, will the secret not leak, and my work be hard to accomplish?
Wukong grabs him, because the boy has forgotten the three thousand men outside. 走漏消息 is to let a secret leak; 難成功 is "hard to bring off"; 都回 takes dōu.
You must enter the city single, one man on one horse; you must not make your name known or show off.
The tradecraft begins. 單人獨馬 — one man, one horse — and no showing off. 揚名賣弄 is to trumpet your name and put on a display, which is precisely what a prince returning from a hunt would normally do.
Enter not by the Zhengyang Gate; you must go in by the Houzai Gate.
Not the front door. The 正陽門 is the great south gate, the ceremonial entrance; the 後宰門 is the back gate by the kitchens and stores. 宰 is zǎi.
When you come into the palace to see your mother, take care not to speak loud or high — you must whisper low and soft.
And keep your voice down. 悄語低言 is to whisper low — the sealed note reads 悄 as qiǎo, the literary "quiet," against the ruby's qiāo. 切休 is an emphatic "on no account"; 宮中 takes the locative zhōng.
For fear that fiend’s powers are vast, and the secret should of a sudden leak, when neither you nor your mother’s lives could be saved.”
The reason, stated without softening: if this leaks, you and your mother are both dead. 娘兒們 — "you and your mother" — ends in the light er; 那怪 takes the pointing nà. This is the fourth and last time the chapter calls the fiend's powers 神通廣大, and this time it is Wukong saying it — the one character who has never been impressed by them until now.
The prince respectfully obeyed the command.
Four characters, and the prince has become someone who takes orders. 謹遵教命 is to obey an instruction respectfully — the language a subordinate uses, from a boy who was ordering arrests an hour ago. 教 is jiào.
Going out the mountain gate, he charged his officers: “Camp firmly here, and do not stir.
He covers his own absence competently, which is the first sign of the king he might become. 扎營 is to pitch camp; 將官 has 將 standing alone as jiàng, an officer; 不得移動 has 得 as dé.
I have a matter; wait until I have gone and returned, and we will enter the city together.”
And a plain lie to his own officers, delivered easily. 一同 keeps 一 as yì.
See him:
看他 — "watch him go" — the cue that turns the last of the action into verse.
He gave command and order to station the soldiers, then, mounting as if in flight, turned at once for the city.
One couplet of seven and seven, and the chapter is on the move. 號令 is command and order, 號 read hào; 屯軍士 is to station the troops, with 屯 as tún, to garrison — the same character that opened the chapter's long conversation as 災屯 zhūn, calamity. Two words, one shape, bookending the episode. 如飛 is "as if flying."
Resolved at last, the prince sleeves the tablet and prepares to go and question his mother. The shift in his language is worth catching: Wukong called her the queen-mother, and the boy answers with "my mother." The chapter has been about a throne for forty-four passages; here it quietly becomes about a family.
Wukong's parting instructions are pure tradecraft — ride in alone, use the back gate, do not announce yourself, speak only in whispers — and they mirror the whole chapter's play of concealment against a watchful enemy. The closing couplet sends him flying back toward the capital, and the movement itself changes the scene: the action passes now from the temple to the palace, and from the son to the mother whose single answer will settle everything.