Canonical Classics ← 第三十九回
第三十九回
dānshātiānshàng
sānniánzhǔshìjiānshēng

One Grain of Cinnabar-Sand Is Got from Heaven · The Three-Years-Dead Former Lord Is Born Again in the World

換卻黃袍
模式 Mode Read Study
拼音 Pinyin Off
字體 Script
原文 Original text 繁體 Traditional Reader's edition

換卻黃袍 The Yellow Robe Exchanged for a Monk's

sānzàngshènguòchānhuángláitóngchántángyòujièxíngzhěshāsēngbàijiànlefāngcáiànzuòzhǐjiànběndesēngrénzhěngdùnlezǎozhāiquèláifèngxiànjiànshuǐhuángjīngzhāngrénrénshuōsūnxíngzhětiàochūláidào:「shàngyàozhèděngjīngzhèběnshìguówángnǎizhīzhēnzhǔsānniánqiánbèiguàihàilexìngmìngshìlǎosūnjīnjiùhuójīnjìnchéngyàobiànmíngxiézhèngruòyǒulezhāibǎijiāngláiděngmenchīlezǒu。」zhòngsēngfèngxiàntāngshuǐlemiànhuànlehuángzhěhuángpáotuōleběnsēngguānjiāngliǎnglǐngzhíduō穿chuānlejiěxiàlántiándàijiāngtiáohuángtāoziletuìxiàyōushuāngjiùsēngxiélequècáidōuchīlezǎozhāikòubèisānzàngshènguòchānhuángláitóngchántángyòujièxíngzhěshāsēngbàijiànlefāngcáiànzuòzhǐjiànběndesēngrénzhěngdùnlezǎozhāiquèláifèngxiànjiànshuǐhuángjīngzhāngrénrénshuōsūnxíngzhětiàochūláidào:「shàngyàozhèděngjīngzhèběnshìguówángnǎizhīzhēnzhǔsānniánqiánbèiguàihàilexìngmìngshìlǎosūnjīnjiùhuójīnjìnchéngyàobiànmíngxiézhèngruòyǒulezhāibǎijiāngláiděngmenchīlezǒu。」zhòngsēngfèngxiàntāngshuǐlemiànhuànlehuángzhěhuángpáotuōleběnsēngguānjiāngliǎnglǐngzhíduō穿chuānlejiěxiàlántiándàijiāngtiáohuángtāoziletuìxiàyōushuāngjiùsēngxiélequècáidōuchīlezǎozhāikòubèi


逐句解 Line by line

sānzàngshènguòchānhuángláitóngchántáng sānzàngshènguòchānhuángláitóngchántáng

Tripitaka, much abashed, helped the emperor up and they went together into the meditation hall.

三藏: = zàng. 甚不過意: = shèn, "greatly" — much embarrassed. Pointing 那皇帝: = . A monk being bowed to by an emperor is the wrong way round, and Tripitaka feels it.

yòujièxíngzhěshāsēngbàijiànlefāngcáiànzuò yòujièxíngzhěshāsēngbàijiànlefāngcáiànzuò

Once more the king made his bows to Eight Rules, Pilgrim, and Sha Monk, and only then took his seat.

拜見了, paid his respects. 方才按座, only then sat down. The king insists on bowing to all four of them before he will take a seat.

zhǐjiànběndesēngrénzhěngdùnlezǎozhāiquèláifèngxiànjiànshuǐhuángjīngzhāngrénrénshuō zhǐjiànběndesēngrénzhěngdùnlezǎozhāiquèláifèngxiànjiànshuǐhuángjīngzhāngrénrénshuō

Just then the monks of the monastery, having set out the morning fast and coming to offer it, suddenly caught sight of that water-robed emperor, and every one of them was startled, everyone in doubtful murmur.

Two point (那本寺, 那個水衣皇帝) = . 驚張 is alarmed; 疑說 is muttering in doubt. 水衣皇帝, the "water-robed emperor," is the monks' phrase for what they are looking at: a drowned man in wet clothes, walking about their courtyard at breakfast.

sūnxíngzhětiàochūláidào:「shàngyàozhèděngjīng sūnxíngzhětiàochūláidào:「shàngyàozhèděngjīng

Sun Pilgrim sprang out and said: "You monks, don't be so alarmed and suspicious.

Pointing 那和尚: = . 驚疑, startled and doubting.

zhèběnshìguówángnǎizhīzhēnzhǔ zhèběnshìguówángnǎizhīzhēnzhǔ

This is none other than the King of Wūjī, your own true sovereign.

乃汝之真主, "is indeed your true lord." Wukong settles the matter in one flat sentence.

sānniánqiánbèiguàihàilexìngmìngshìlǎosūnjīnjiùhuó sānniánqiánbèiguàihàilexìngmìngshìlǎosūnjīnjiùhuó

Three years ago a fiend took his life, and old Sun revived him this very night.

被怪害了性命, had his life destroyed by the monster. 今夜救活, revived this very night.

jīnjìnchéngyàobiànmíngxiézhèng jīnjìnchéngyàobiànmíngxiézhèng

Now we'll enter his city to set right the false from the true.

辨明邪正: = xié — to sort the crooked from the upright. These are the same four characters Wukong used when he first put the case to Lord Lao, and repeating them here turns the phrase into the expedition's statement of purpose.

ruòyǒulezhāibǎijiāngláiděngmenchīlezǒu。」 ruòyǒulezhāibǎijiāngláiděngmenchīlezǒu。」

If the fast is ready, lay it out — let us eat and be on our way."

擺將來: = jiāng, carrying the action along. 走路 is to set off. Having announced a resurrection, Wukong asks for breakfast.

zhòngsēngfèngxiàntāngshuǐlemiànhuànle zhòngsēngfèngxiàntāngshuǐlemiànhuànle

The monks at once presented broth and water, washed his face for him and changed his clothes.

奉獻湯水, offered soup and water. 換了衣服, changed his clothes.

huángzhěhuángpáotuōleběnsēngguānjiāngliǎnglǐngzhíduō穿chuānle huángzhěhuángpáotuōleběnsēngguānjiāngliǎnglǐngzhíduō穿chuānle

They stripped off that emperor's ochre-yellow robe, and the monastery's clerics put two lengths of cloth cassock on him to wear;

Pointing 那皇帝: = . 將兩領布直裰: = jiāng. The 赭黃袍 is the ochre-yellow robe, a colour no one but the emperor might wear; a 直裰 is a monk's plain long gown. The first item of the disguise is also the gravest demotion available.

jiěxiàlántiándàijiāngtiáohuángtāozile jiěxiàlántiándàijiāngtiáohuángtāozile

they undid his indigo-jade belt and girded him with a length of yellow silk cord;

將一條黃絲絛子: = jiāng; rounding-off = zi. 繫了: = , to tie or gird. The 藍田帶 is a belt set with jade from Lantian, a name that has been a byword for fine jade since antiquity; it comes off in exchange for a length of silk cord.

tuìxiàyōushuāngjiùsēngxiéle tuìxiàyōushuāngjiùsēngxiéle

they slipped off his care-free shoes and gave him an old pair of monk's sandals to shuffle on.

無憂履, "carefree slippers," is royal footwear — the name says the wearer has nothing to worry about. 僧鞋撒了, shuffled into a monk's old sandals. The irony of the name is left to do its own work.

quècáidōuchīlezǎozhāikòubèi quècáidōuchīlezǎozhāikòubèi

Only then had they all eaten the morning fast, and they saddled and strapped the horses.

卻才都吃了: = dōu. 扣背馬匹 is to strap up the horses' backs.


總評 Commentary

The passage is quiet business — dressing the king — but it carries real weight. To walk his revived sovereign back into a city the impostor still holds, Wukong must strip him of every mark of kingship: the ochre-yellow robe (赭黃袍, a colour reserved to the emperor), the Lantian-jade belt, the "carefree" royal shoes, all exchanged for a cloth cassock, a yellow silk cord and a worn pair of sandals. The true king is hidden inside the costume of the humblest member of the party, and that reversal of station — sovereign made servant-monk — is the engine of the whole disguise-plot the rest of the chapter runs on.

The monks' terror at the 水衣皇帝, the "water-robed emperor," is the reader's own recognition staged from outside. To the monastery a drowned man walking is an omen; to us it is proof the elixir worked. Wukong's brisk explanation — this is your true lord, dead three years, revived tonight, and we go now to sort out 邪正, the crooked and the upright — restates the chapter's governing pair and turns the company toward the city and the confrontation waiting there.