廟中設祭 The Sacrifice Set Out in the Shrine
話說陳家莊眾信人等，將豬羊牲醴與行者、八戒，喧喧嚷嚷，直擡至靈感廟裡排下；將童男女設在上首。行者回頭看見那供桌上香花蠟燭，正面一個金字牌位，上寫「靈感大王之神」，更無別的神像。眾信擺列停當，一齊朝上叩頭道：「大王爺爺，今年今月今日今時，陳家莊祭主陳澄等眾信，年甲不齊，謹遵年例，供獻童男一名陳關保、童女一名陳一秤金，豬羊牲醴如數，奉上大王享用。保佑風調雨順，五穀豐登。」祝罷，燒了紙馬，各回本宅不題。话说陈家庄众信人等，将猪羊牲醴与行者、八戒，喧喧嚷嚷，直抬至灵感庙里排下；将童男女设在上首。行者回头看见那供桌上香花蜡烛，正面一个金字牌位，上写「灵感大王之神」，更无别的神像。众信摆列停当，一齐朝上叩头道：「大王爷爷，今年今月今日今时，陈家庄祭主陈澄等众信，年甲不齐，谨遵年例，供献童男一名陈关保、童女一名陈一秤金，猪羊牲醴如数，奉上大王享用。保佑风调雨顺，五谷丰登。」祝罢，烧了纸马，各回本宅不题。
逐句解 Line by line
The believers of Chen Village, every one of them, brought the pigs and the sheep and the sacrificial wine, and with them Pilgrim and Eight Rules, in a great clamour and shouting, straight to the Temple of Divine Response, and set all down there;
The chapter opens on a procession, and the joke is already running: the two "children" being carried up to the temple are Pilgrim and Eight Rules in disguise. 將 is jiāng, "taking, with," and it sweeps the whole offering into a single armful — pigs, sheep, wine and the two disciples alike. 與 is not "give" here but plain "and, along with," so the pilgrims get listed as freight. 牲醴 names the two halves of a proper sacrifice: the animals killed for it, and the sweet wine poured beside them.
and the boy and the girl they set in the place of honour.
將 is jiāng again, doing the same work. 上首 is the upper seat, the place nearest the god — which in this temple means nearest to being eaten. The seat of honour and the chopping block are the same chair.
Pilgrim turned his head and saw upon the offering table incense, flowers and wax candles, and full in the middle a gold-lettered tablet inscribed 「Spirit of the Great King of Divine Response」 — and no other image of any god whatever.
Pilgrim is casing the room, and what he notices is what is not in it. 那 here is nà, "that," pointing at the table in front of him. 供 is gòng, the offering sense — the reading it takes in 供桌, an altar table, and in 齋供, a meal laid out for monks. 更 is gèng, "besides, on top of that." A working shrine is crowded: a chief god, his attendants, whatever local powers have piled up over the generations. This one holds a gold-lettered name board and a bare wall behind it.
When the believers had ranged everything in order they knocked their heads to the ground together and said: 「Great King, Your Worship! In this year, this month, this day, this hour, the sacrificial masters of Chen Village, Chen Cheng and the rest of the faithful, being of no one age among them, reverently follow the yearly precedent and present one boy, Chen Guanbao by name, one girl, Chen Yichengjin by name, with pigs, sheep and sacrificial wine to the full tale, offered up for the Great King's enjoyment.
The prayer is filed the way a clerk files a form: date stamp, named petitioner, itemised list. 停當 takes 當 as dàng, "settled, squared away" — not the dāng of "at that time." 供 in 供獻 is gòng again. 如數 takes 數 as shù, the noun: the tally agreed, delivered in full. 年甲不齊 says the petitioners are of assorted ages — the set formula for a prayer offered by a whole village rather than by one man. And the girl's name repays a moment. 一秤金 is "One Steelyard of Gold," 秤 being chèng, the hand-balance a merchant weighs silver on. Her parents named her for what she was worth to them. The village is reading that name off a list of goods.
Keep us in seasonable wind and rain, and the five grains in rich harvest.」
風調雨順 — wind tempered, rain in season — is still the blessing pasted on doorframes at New Year, and it is the whole of what a farming village wants from a god. 調 is tiáo, "tuned, in balance," not diào, "to shift about."
The prayer done, they burned the paper horses and each returned to his own house, of which no more.
祝罷: 罷 is bà, the full verb "to have done with" — not the light ba that softens the end of a sentence. Paper horses are couriers. Burn one and it carries the petition upward, which is why they go into the fire the moment the words are finished.
Chapter Forty-Eight picks up in mid-stride from Forty-Seven, with a joke already running that nobody on the page can see. The two children laid out on the offering table are Pilgrim and Eight Rules, transformed. The narrator never reminds us. He reports the preparations in the flat voice of a ritual manual — victims carried up, table dressed, prayer recited with its date formula and its list of names — and leaves us to hold the substitution ourselves. Nothing is said. The comedy comes from the shape of the scene.
The detail Pilgrim picks out is doing real work. On the table: incense, flowers, candles, and a gold-lettered board naming the Great King of Divine Response — and 更無別的神像, not one image of any other god. A shrine with a proper cult behind it would be full of company. This one holds a name and a demand. The novel is making its case before a blow has been struck: what the villagers worship is not a god who was given a temple, but a predator that took one.
The prayer itself is impeccable. The fourfold 今年今月今日今時 stamps the date four ways over, as a legal instrument would; 年甲不齊 enters the usual plea that the petitioners are a mixed crowd of no particular standing; the close asks for seasonable wind and rain and a full harvest. Every phrase is correct. It is the liturgy of lawful sacrifice wrapped around the killing of two children, and the correctness is exactly what makes it hard to read.