稱斤問歲 Weighing the Pounds, Asking the Years
行者把他扯在路傍邊，試了一試，只好有三斤十來兩重。行者笑道：「你這個潑怪物，今日該死了，怎麼在老孫面前搗鬼？我認得你是個那話兒。」妖怪道：「我是好人家兒女，不幸遭此大難，怎麼是個甚麼『那話兒』？」行者道：「你既是好人家兒女，怎麼這等骨頭輕？」妖怪道：「我骨格兒小。」行者道：「你今年幾歲了？」那妖怪道：「我七歲了。」行者笑道：「一歲長一斤，也該七斤，你怎麼不滿四斤重麼？」那怪道：「我小時失乳。」行者說：「也罷，我馱著你，若要尿尿把把，須和我說。」行者把他扯在路傍边，试了一试，只好有三斤十来两重。行者笑道：「你这个泼怪物，今日该死了，怎么在老孙面前捣鬼？我认得你是个那话儿。」妖怪道：「我是好人家儿女，不幸遭此大难，怎么是个甚么『那话儿』？」行者道：「你既是好人家儿女，怎么这等骨头轻？」妖怪道：「我骨格儿小。」行者道：「你今年几岁了？」那妖怪道：「我七岁了。」行者笑道：「一岁长一斤，也该七斤，你怎么不满四斤重么？」那怪道：「我小时失乳。」行者说：「也罢，我驮着你，若要尿尿把把，须和我说。」
逐句解 Line by line
Pilgrim hauled him over to the roadside and gave him a testing heft — he weighed only some three catties and ten-odd taels.
The weighing, and it is Wukong's quiet triumph. A 斤 is a catty, about 600 grams in the Ming, and a 兩 is a tael, one sixteenth of a catty — both English words borrowed from the Chinese trade, so both stay. Three catties and ten-odd taels comes to a little over two kilograms: the weight of a newborn kitten, not a seven-year-old. 路傍邊 has 傍 as páng; 試了一試 shifts 一 to yí before the falling tone of 試; 重 is zhòng, weight.
Pilgrim laughed: "You wretched monster, today you're marked for death — how dare you play tricks in front of old Sun?
He announces the verdict without naming it. 搗鬼 has 搗 as dǎo — to play devil-tricks.
I recognize you for a you-know-what."
And here is a piece of Ming slang doing exactly what it does today. 那話兒 is "that thing," "you-know-what" — the coy phrase you reach for when you would rather not say the word. Wukong is telling the demon he has his number while telling the Master nothing at all. 認得 takes the full-weight 得, dé; 那 is the pointing nà; the 兒 on 話 is the weightless curl, er.
The monster said: "I'm the child of a good family, unluckily fallen into this great calamity — how am I any sort of 'you-know-what'?"
The demon plays offended innocence, which is the right move. 好人家兒女 — in 兒女, "children," the 兒 is a word in its own right, ér. 大難 has 難 as nàn, calamity; 甚 is shén; the 兒 on 話兒 is the weightless er again — the same character, twice in one line, taking two different readings.
Pilgrim said: "If you're the child of a good family, how are your bones so light?"
骨頭輕, "light of bone," is the accusation. 兒女 again takes the full ér.
The monster said: "My frame's a small one."
A small frame — the first excuse. 骨格兒小 takes the weightless 兒, er.
Pilgrim said: "How old are you this year?"
And the trap question. 了 is the completed le.
The monster said: "I'm seven years old."
He answers with the age the demon chose for the disguise. 那妖怪 takes the pointing nà.
Pilgrim laughed: "One catty a year — that'd be seven catties; how is it you don't come to a full four catties in weight?"
The arithmetic is nonsense and unanswerable at once: a catty a year, so seven years should weigh seven catties. Note the two instances of 一 take different tones according to what follows — yí before the falling tone of 歲, yì before the level tone of 斤. 長 is zhǎng, to grow; 重 is zhòng; 不 keeps the plain bù before the dipping tone of 滿.
The monster said: "When I was little, I lacked for milk."
The second excuse, and the more desperate: he was underfed as a baby. 那怪 takes the pointing nà.
Pilgrim said: "Well, no matter — I'll carry you; if you need to make water, be sure to tell me."
And Wukong lets it go, with a courtesy that is pure menace. 也罷, "well, no matter," takes the light everyday ba. 馱著你 uses the ongoing 著, zhe. 尿尿把把 is nursery language for a child's toilet needs — he is addressing this demon as one would address an actual small boy, which is the joke.
The weighing is a small, sly triumph and it belongs entirely to Wukong. Having agreed to carry the child, he first tests the load — and the impossible lightness, a little over two kilograms for a supposed seven-year-old, confirms in his hands what his eyes had already told him. This is no child but a 那話兒, a "you-know-what," the coy phrase by which he signals that he has the demon's number without tipping his hand to the Master. The comedy runs on his mock-arithmetic — a catty a year should make seven, so why not even four? — and on the demon's increasingly threadbare excuses, small-boned, then starved of milk, each a scramble to patch a lie the scales keep exposing.
Beneath the banter the balance has quietly reversed. Through the preceding passages the demon held the initiative, working the Master's compassion against Wukong's judgement. Now, hoisted onto Wukong's back — exactly where he schemed to be — he finds himself under the eye of the one adversary who is not fooled for a moment. Wukong's closing courtesy, offered in the language one uses to a toddler about the toilet, is the tone of a cat that has decided to play with its dinner. The demon believes he has manoeuvred his enemy into carrying him. The reader, and Wukong, understand that it is the demon who is now carried, weighed and known.