枯松訴苦 A Tale of Woe by the Withered Pine
那妖魔見他下問,越弄虛頭,眼中噙淚,叫道:「師父呀,山西去有一條枯松澗,澗那邊有一莊村,我是那裡人家。我祖公公姓紅,只因廣積金銀,家私巨萬,混名喚做紅百萬。年老歸世已久,家產遺與我父。近來人事奢侈,家私漸廢,改名喚做紅十萬。專一結交四路豪傑,將金銀借放,希圖利息。怎知那無籍之人,設騙了去啊,本利無歸。我父發了洪誓,分文不借。那借金銀人,身貧無計,結成兇黨,明火執杖,白日殺上我門,將我財帛盡情劫擄;把我父親殺了;見我母親有些顏色,拐將去做甚麼壓寨夫人。那時節,我母親捨不得我,把我抱在懷裡,哭哀哀,戰兢兢,跟隨賊寇。不期到此山中,又要殺我。多虧母親哀告,免教我刀下身亡,卻將繩子吊我在樹上,只教凍餓而死。那些賊將我母親不知掠往那裡去了。我在此已吊三日三夜,更沒一個人來行走。不知那世裡修積,今生得遇老師父。若肯捨大慈悲,救我一命回家,就典身賣命,也酬謝師恩。即使黃沙蓋面,更不敢忘也。」那妖魔见他下问,越弄虚头,眼中噙泪,叫道:「师父呀,山西去有一条枯松涧,涧那边有一庄村,我是那里人家。我祖公公姓红,只因广积金银,家私巨万,混名唤做红百万。年老归世已久,家产遗与我父。近来人事奢侈,家私渐废,改名唤做红十万。专一结交四路豪杰,将金银借放,希图利息。怎知那无籍之人,设骗了去啊,本利无归。我父发了洪誓,分文不借。那借金银人,身贫无计,结成凶党,明火执杖,白日杀上我门,将我财帛尽情劫掳;把我父亲杀了;见我母亲有些颜色,拐将去做甚么压寨夫人。那时节,我母亲舍不得我,把我抱在怀里,哭哀哀,战兢兢,跟随贼寇。不期到此山中,又要杀我。多亏母亲哀告,免教我刀下身亡,却将绳子吊我在树上,只教冻饿而死。那些贼将我母亲不知掠往那里去了。我在此已吊三日三夜,更没一个人来行走。不知那世里修积,今生得遇老师父。若肯舍大慈悲,救我一命回家,就典身卖命,也酬谢师恩。即使黄沙盖面,更不敢忘也。」
逐句解 Line by line
That demon, seeing him inquire below, played the fraud all the more, tears brimming in his eyes, and cried: "Master! Off to the west of the mountain there's a Withered Pine Gully, and on the far side of the gully a hamlet — I'm a person of that place.
The performance starts with tears and a place name. 越弄虛頭 is "played the fraud all the harder"; 那妖魔 takes the pointing nà; 眼中噙淚 takes zhōng; 澗那邊 the pointing nà. And 我是那裡人家 is the pointing 那裡, nà lǐ, "of that place" — referring back to the gully he has just named. Hold on to that gully; the chapter comes back to it.
My grandfather was surnamed Hong, and because he had amassed vast gold and silver, a family fortune running to untold myriads, his nickname was Hong-a-Million.
The lie acquires a family. 混名 is a nickname or byname. 紅百萬 is "Hong-a-Million" — 萬 is ten thousand, so 百萬 is a hundred ten-thousands, a million — a boast-name built out of the family fortune. And note the surname: 紅, "Red." The demon has given himself away in his first sentence, and nobody notices.
Being old, he had long since departed the world, and the family estate passed to my father.
歸世 is a soft way of saying he died. 遺與我父 has 遺 as yí, to bequeath.
Of late, with extravagant living, the family fortune gradually wasted away, and his name was changed to Hong-a-Hundred-Thousand.
And the name falls with the fortune: 紅十萬, "Hong-a-Hundred-Thousand," one tenth of what the grandfather was called. That is the sort of invented detail that makes a lie convincing. 奢侈 is extravagance.
Single-mindedly he took up with stalwarts of the four roads, lending out his gold and silver in hopes of interest.
Money-lending at interest to the local strongmen — a plausible way for a provincial fortune to go wrong. In 專一, "single-mindedly," the 一 is part of the word itself and keeps its plain yī; it does not take the tone shift that a counting 一 would. 將金銀 uses the object-marking 將, jiāng.
But who could know that those unregistered vagabonds, having swindled it all away, left both principal and interest gone for good.
無籍之人 are men off the register — the Ming state kept household rolls, and to be absent from them was to be a vagrant with no fixed liability. 那 is the pointing nà; 了 the completed le.
My father then swore a great oath to lend not a single cash.
The father's oath is the hinge of the invented tragedy. 分文不借, "not a 分 or a 文 lent" — both are the smallest coins, so the phrase is our "not a penny"; 分 is fēn. 發了洪誓 takes the completed 了, le, and 不 lifts to bú before the falling tone of 借.
Those who'd borrowed the gold and silver, being poor and at wits' end, banded into a savage gang, and with open torches and bared cudgels murdered their way to our gate in broad daylight, plundering all our goods and silks;
明火執杖, "open torches and raised cudgels," is a set phrase for robbery done in the open rather than by stealth, and it survives in modern Chinese for anything done brazenly. 那借金銀人 takes the pointing nà; 將我財帛 the object-marking 將, jiāng; 盡情劫擄 has 盡 as jìn.
they killed my father;
Five characters for a murdered father. The escalation is calculated. 了 is the completed le.
and seeing that my mother had some beauty, they carried her off to be a stronghold-wife.
壓寨夫人 is the bandit chief's forced wife — literally the "hold-the-stronghold lady," a stock figure of Chinese outlaw fiction. 拐將去 uses 將, jiāng; 甚 is shén.
At that time my mother could not bear to leave me, and clasped me in her arms, weeping bitterly and trembling in terror, as she followed the bandits.
The mother who would not let go: the single most effective image in the whole performance. 那時節 takes the pointing nà; 捨不得 has the full-weight 得, dé — "could not bear to."
Not expecting it, they came to this mountain and meant to kill me as well.
到此山中 takes zhōng. The bandits are brought to this very mountain, which conveniently explains why a child is hanging in a tree beside the road.
Thanks to my mother's piteous pleading, I was spared death beneath the blade, but they bound me with cords to this tree and left me only to freeze and starve.
Spared the knife and left to die slowly instead — worse, and better theatre. Both 教 are the order-giving jiào; 卻將繩子 uses 將, jiāng, and the light suffix 子, zi.
Those bandits carried my mother off — I don't know where they've taken her.
And the mother's fate left open, so the rescue can be imagined as incomplete. 那些賊 takes the pointing nà; 將我母親 the object-marking 將, jiāng; 了 the completed le. In 掠往那裡去了 the 那裡 is the questioning one, nǎ lǐ, "to where" — the sealed note gave it as the pointing nà lǐ, but the reading in the text is nǎ and that is right.
I've hung here three days and three nights now, with not a single soul passing by.
Three days and three nights, and not one traveller — which happens to explain why nobody has checked his story. 更 is gèng, "not one at all"; 行 is xíng.
I don't know from what former life's cultivation it is that I've met with you, old Master, this present life.
The flattery arrives dressed as theology: meeting you must be the fruit of merit laid up in some earlier life. 那世裡 is the questioning 那, nǎ, "which former life" — the sealed note said nà and then corrected itself to nǎ in the same breath; nǎ is the reading in the text and the right one. 得遇 takes the full-weight 得, dé.
If you would but show great compassion and save my life, bring me home, I'd pledge myself in bondage and sell my very life to repay your kindness, Master.
And the promised payment. 典身賣命 is "pawn my body and sell my life" — to 典 something was to pledge it against a loan with a right of redemption, so the offer is to hand himself over as security. 一 shifts to yí before the falling tone of 命.
Even were yellow sand to cover my face, I would never dare forget."
黃沙蓋面, "though yellow sand should cover my face," means "even when I am buried" — a vow held past death. 更 is gèng; 不 keeps the plain bù before the dipping tone of 敢.
The false child's tale is a small masterpiece of manipulation, and the novel gives it in full: two generations of a fortune won and lost, the boast-name falling from a million to a hundred thousand, a father's fatal oath against further lending, a daylight raid, a murdered father, an abducted mother, and a child left tied up to freeze. Every element is aimed at Tripitaka. It is a story of innocence destroyed by greed and violence, which is precisely the suffering his compassion is least able to ride past, and it ends in a vow of lifelong self-selling gratitude that flatters the rescuer while it begs.
What raises it above a set-piece of villainy is its craft as persuasion. The demon does not merely claim to be in distress; he builds a world — named places, named people, a plausible economic mechanism in the shape of lending gone bad — because detail is what makes a lie hold. It is the same technique the book elsewhere admires in Wukong's own impostures, turned to a worse use. And the sharpest irony is buried in the geography: the 枯松澗, the Withered Pine Gully that the child names as his home, is the demon's actual lair, as the mountain spirits will confirm near the end of the chapter. The lie is stitched through with truth, which is exactly why it works — on the Master, and very nearly on Pigsy, who takes the child's side against Wukong in the next passage. The surname he gives himself, 紅, "Red," is a second clue hiding in plain sight.