We tell now how the Great Sage, with Eight Rules and Sha Monk, took leave of old Chen and came down to the river, where he said: "Brothers, settle it between you — which of you goes into the water first?"

The chapter picks up mid-stride. Chapter 48 ended with the pilgrims leaving the Chen household; here they are already at the water's edge, and the opening word says so — 卻說 is the storyteller's "now, to go on with," used to resume a thread rather than start one. Note the question Wukong asks: 那一個, "which one of you," where 那 is nǎ, the asking word. The same character read nà would mean "that one." It is the chapter's most frequent trap, and it comes up again and again.

Eight Rules said: "Brother, neither of us has much skill to show. You had better be the one to go down first."

Bajie ducks the job with a compliment. 還得: 得 here is děi, plain "have to, had better" — the sound English speakers meet as the Mandarin for "I gotta." It is neither dé, "to get," nor the toneless de that hooks a verb to its result. This one character takes all three readings before the chapter is out.

Pilgrim said: "I'll not deceive you, worthy brothers. Were this a mountain fiend, I would not put you to the least trouble;

不瞞賢弟說 is a set opener — "I won't hide it from you, brothers," the Ming equivalent of "I'll be straight with you." Wukong reaches for it because he is about to admit a limit, which he almost never does.

but in matters that belong to the water I cannot go.

Here is the admission. 去不得 is the "can't manage it" form, with 得 read dé, following the settled house reading for 去得 and 去不得. 水中: 中 is zhōng, "inside."

Even to enter the sea or make my way along a river I must hold the water-repelling sign, or else change into the form of some fish or crab — only so can I go.

The 避水訣, the water-repelling sign, is a hand gesture Wukong makes to keep the water off him — a fixed item in his kit, and about to become the problem. 捻著, "holding it made," with 著 read zhe for an action kept up. 甚麼: 甚 shén.

But holding the sign so, I cannot swing my iron rod, cannot work my transformations, cannot strike a fiend.

And here is why the whole chapter has the shape it has. Three matched "cannot" phrases — 掄不得, 使不得, 打不得, every 得 read dé — and the point of all three is simple: his hands are full. He can hold the sign or he can hold the rod, not both. The best fighter in the book has been disarmed by plumbing.

I have long known you two for men at home in water, and that is why I want you both to go down."

慣水之人, "people who are used to water." He is not flattering them. Bajie commanded the celestial river as Marshal of the Heavenly Reeds, and Sha Monk served his exile in the Flowing-Sand River; both are creatures of water in a way Wukong has never been.

Sha Monk said: "Brother, your younger brother can go well enough, but there is no telling what lies on the bottom.

去得: 得 dé, "can." Sha Monk agrees and at once qualifies — the habit that balances Bajie's bluster all through these chapters.

Let us all go down together.

都 is dōu, "all," not dū (a capital city, or the drumming sound it makes elsewhere in the novel).

Change yourself into some shape, brother, or let me carry you on my back; we will part the water, seek out the fiend's lair, and you shall go in first to make inquiries.

Two different jobs for 著 inside one sentence, and their positions settle them. 馱著 is "carrying," an action going on, so zhe; 尋著 is "find and get to," an action that lands, so zháo. 甚麼 甚 shén.

If our master is unhurt and still there, we can press the attack with a will;

還在那裡: 還 hái, "still," and 那裡 pointing — 那 nà, "there." Compare the opening line, where the same character asked "which" and was nǎ.

but if this monster's arts have drowned him, or the fiend has eaten him, there is no use in our striving — better to seek another road early. What do you say?"

Sha Monk says the unsayable thing. 渰 (yǎn) is an older way of writing 淹, "to drown," and the 世德堂本 spelling is kept as printed. What he proposes — if the master is already dead, cut the losses and find another road — he proposes without a flicker of embarrassment. That flatness is his character, not a lapse in it.

Pilgrim said: "What you say is reasonable, worthy brother.

說得有理: this 得 is the toneless de, the little hinge that joins a verb to how it turned out — "spoke, and it was reasonable." Two lines ago the same character was dé, "can." Same shape on the page, different job.

Which of you will carry me?"

那個 asking again — 那 nǎ. The question is a trap, and Bajie is about to walk into it grinning.

Eight Rules was secretly delighted, and said to himself: "This monkey has played who knows how many tricks on me. This time it turns out he cannot swim. Let old Hog carry him — and I'll play a trick on him too."

老豬, "old Hog," is what Bajie calls himself, built on the pattern of Wukong's 老孫, "old Sun." The doubling in 捉弄他捉弄 is how Chinese says "give him a bit of a ribbing" — repeating the verb makes the action smaller and more offhand, not larger.

The blockhead called out with a broad grin: "Brother, I'll carry you."

獃子, "blockhead," is the narrator's standing nickname for Bajie; the 子 is the toneless tag zi. In 笑嘻嘻的 the small word 的 does the job later Chinese gives to 地 — it turns "grinning" into "grinningly."

Pilgrim knew at once he was up to something, and met the scheme with a scheme of his own: "Right, that will do. You have more strength in your back than Wujing."

將計就計 is a proper idiom, still in daily use: take the other fellow's scheme and ride it against him. Wukong has read the offer correctly and accepts it anyway, which is the whole joke of what follows. 將 here is jiāng. 膂力 (lǚ lì) is strength in the spine — carrying power, not fighting power, so the compliment is exactly calibrated. 還 hái, "more than."

So Eight Rules took him up on his back.

One character, one reading to get right: 背 is the verb bēi, "to carry on the back." As a noun — "the back" — it would be bèi, which is what it becomes in the very next passage. 著 is zhe, the action kept up.