Tripitaka, hearing this, was overjoyed: "Go then, and come back quickly."

三藏 — 藏 zàng. 大喜, "overjoyed": the Master's relief is instant, and entirely at Wukong's expense.

Pilgrim said: "It's about the third watch now; by the time I'm back it should be near daybreak.

三更 sān gēng is the third night-watch, the small hours between roughly eleven and one; 更 read gēng. The 了 closing 天明了 marks a state arrived at: it will be light by then.

Only, this man lying here so cold and forlorn hardly looks the part.

冷淡冷淡, "chill and cheerless"; 不像個模樣, "doesn't look the part." Wukong is staging a scene, and the corpse is letting it down.

We shall need mourners to keep watch over him and weep, and then it will do."

須得, "we shall have to manage—," 得 here dé. 看著: 著 is zhe, which shows an action going on — keeping watch over him. 舉哀, "to raise the wailing," is the technical term for ritual mourning, and it points at something a modern reader can miss: at a Chinese funeral the weeping is not left to spontaneous grief but performed, on cue, and loudly. Wukong needs the performance, not the sorrow.

Eight Rules said: "No need to spell it out — this monkey is surely going to make me do the weeping."

不消講, "no need to spell it out." 猴子: the rounding-off 子 is zi. Bajie has seen this coming since the first sentence.

Pilgrim said: "Afraid you won't weep?

怕你不哭 is a taunt rather than a question: "as if you'd dare not."

If you won't weep, I can't work the cure."

醫不成, "can't bring the cure off" — 不成, bù chéng.

Eight Rules said: "Brother, you go on yourself; I'll do my own weeping, and that's that."

罷了 here is the mild "and there's an end of it" — 罷 bà, 了 le. Bajie agrees to weep with the air of a man conceding a small point, which is not at all how it turns out.

Pilgrim said: "There are several kinds of weeping. If you bawl dry-mouthed with never a tear, that is called bellowing;

Wukong now grades grief the way a taster grades wine, and the joke is that he is entirely serious about it. 乾著口喊 is bawling with a dry mouth — 乾 gān, "dry," and 著 zhe again for the action going on. That, he rules, is only 嚎 háo: hollow bellowing, bottom of the scale.

if you squeeze out a few tears, that is called snivelling;

扭搜 is to wring out. 眼淚兒: the rounding-off 兒 is er. A few squeezed tears earn the next grade up, 啕 táo, snivelling.

but to weep and have real tears, and to weep and have real heart in it — that alone counts as true, wracking lamentation."

Top marks need tears and heart together: 嚎啕痛哭. Both 得 here are de, the hinge meaning "in such a way that—"; in 算著, 著 is zhe. 嚎啕痛哭 is still ordinary Chinese for crying your eyes out, which is what makes the scene funny — Wukong is drawing up a marking rubric for something every speaker of the language already has a single word for.

Eight Rules said: "Let me weep you a sample, then, and you'll see."

哭個樣子, "weep you a specimen"; 子 read zi. Bajie sits the examination.

From somewhere or other he tore off a paper strip, twisted it into a paper spill, ran it up his nostrils a time or two, sneezed out a few sneezes — and look: his eyes brimmed streaming, sticky and slobbering, and he broke out weeping.

And cheats it, in the most physical way available. The paper twist up the nose is a stage trick, and the text lingers over every stage of it. 那裡 here means "somewhere or other," so 那 is nǎ, not the pointing nà. 紙撚兒: rounding-off 兒 = er. 哭將起來: 將 jiāng, the helper word that gets the weeping under way.

From his mouth came an unbroken muttering and grumbling, reckoning the yellow and cursing the black — truly just like a man who has had a death in the house.

數黃道黑 is literally "reckoning the yellow and rehearsing the black" — reeling off grievances, real or invented; 數 here is shǔ, "to count off, to enumerate," not shù, "a number." 絮絮叨叨 is nattering on and on. The last clause lands the joke: he sounds exactly like a man who really has had a death in the house.

As his weeping reached the point of real grief, even the Tang elder let fall tears and ached at heart.

那傷情之處 points: 那 = nà. 唐長老 — 長 zhǎng. And here the counterfeit does its work: the soft-hearted Tripitaka starts crying in earnest.

Pilgrim laughed: "Just so — that is grievous mourning; now on no account let up the sound.

那樣哀痛: 那 = nà. 再不許住聲, "you're not to stop the noise, not once." Having got a performance out of him, Wukong now wants it kept up.

You blockhead, once you've fooled me off, you'll stop weeping.

哄得: 得 = de. 獃子: rounding-off 子 = zi. He knows precisely what Bajie will do the moment his back is turned.

I'll still be listening — if you weep like this, well and good; but if you so much as slacken the sound a little, I'll give you twenty on the ankle-bones."

我還聽 — 還 hái, "still": I'll be listening from up there. 聲兒: 兒 = er. 便罷: 罷 = ba. 孤拐 is the ankle-knob, and twenty strokes across it is a real threat, not a turn of phrase.

Eight Rules laughed: "Off you go, off you go.

你去, 你去 — Bajie waving him off, impatient to be left alone with his grief.

Once I get this weeping of mine going, I've two days' worth of weeping in me."

一哭動頭, "once the weeping gets going"; 動頭 is to start up. Two days' worth, he boasts — the wailing has become a job of work he expects to be admired for.

Sha Monk, seeing him scolded on, went off to find a few sticks of incense to burn as an offering.

數落 is to reel off a list of faults or grievances — 數 again shǔ. 燒獻 is to burn something as an offering. Sha Monk does the quiet, correct thing while the other two squabble.

Pilgrim laughed: "Good, good, good — the whole household has a bit of reverence in it now, and old Sun can set to work."

一家兒: rounding-off 兒 = er; 都 dōu, "all." 用功 is to apply yourself to a task. With incense lit and somebody crying, the household finally looks like a proper funeral — which is the whole of what Wukong wanted.