In not so much as the time it takes to eat a meal, the two of them felt a griping in the belly, and there was nothing to be heard but a rumbling and gurgling of the bowels, three or four bouts of it.

腹中 takes 中 as zhōng. 轂轆轂轆 imitates the rumbling of bowels and keeps its ordinary reading. Note the unit of time: not a clock but a meal — no longer than it takes to eat one.

After the rumbling, the idiot could hold out no longer, and voided at both ends.

大小便齊流 is stated once, without elaboration, and the narrative moves on. The novel is entirely matter-of-fact about the mechanism of the cure.

The Tang Monk too could hold out no longer, and wanted to go somewhere quiet to relieve himself.

靜處 takes 處 as chù; 解手 takes 解 as jiě — literally to loosen the hands, and still the ordinary polite phrase for going to relieve oneself. The euphemism is kept for the master and dispensed with for Bajie, which is a nice piece of decorum.

Pilgrim said, "Master, on no account go out into a draughty place — it's a fearful thing — you might take a chill and turn it into a case of postpartum illness."

怕人子 is an exclamation, roughly frightful. 產後之疾 is the technical term for a postpartum disorder, and Wukong is deploying it as his fourth joke at his master's expense in this chapter.

The old woman at once fetched two clean buckets and let the pair of them relieve themselves.

方便 is the polite verb for the act. 教 is jiào, to let somebody do a thing. Sixteen characters, and the household's hospitality has now stretched about as far as it can go.

In a short while, after each had gone several times, they felt the pain stop; little by little the swelling went down, and the clots of blood and lumps of flesh were dissolved away.

須臾間 takes 間 as jiān; 才覺 takes 覺 as jué, to feel; 化了 takes 化 as huà. Four 了 in the sentence, all the light le. And 化 is the same verb the poem used of the elixir — the dissolution is complete, and the word says so.

The old woman's household then boiled a little white rice gruel for them, to make up their strength.

補虛 — to supply what is depleted — is standard convalescent vocabulary, and thin rice gruel is exactly what one gives a woman after a confinement.

Eight Rules said, "Grandmother, my body is sound enough; I don't need making up.

身子實落 takes 落 as luò; 實落 is solid, substantial. He has just been described voiding at both ends and pronounces himself in good working order.

Boil me a little hot water and let me have a bath, and then the gruel will go down nicely."

The request is Bajie's own invention and it produces the best exchange in the passage. Nobody has suggested he needs a bath.

Sha Monk said, "Second brother, you mustn't take a bath. People in their lying-in fall ill if they meddle with water."

洗不得 asks whether the thing may be done, so 得 is the light de. 坐月子 is the month of postpartum confinement — sitting the month — a custom still observed in China, and the prohibition on washing during it is one of its real rules. Sha Monk cites it with a completely straight face.

Eight Rules said, "But I never had a full delivery — at worst it was only a miscarriage. What have I to fear from it? A wash will get me clean."

乾淨 takes 乾 as gān, dry, not the qián of the trigram. 大生 and 小產 are the genuine obstetric terms for a full delivery and a miscarriage, and Bajie is arguing about which category he falls into.

So the old woman did boil some water, and the two of them washed their hands and feet.

淨了手腳 — hands and feet only. The household has quietly split the difference between Bajie's bath and Sha Monk's prohibition, and nobody remarks on it.

The Tang Monk took only two small cups of the gruel.

兩盞兒 takes 兒 as the light suffix er. The measure is the same 盞 the medicine came in, and Tripitaka keeps to the same restraint.

Eight Rules ate a dozen bowls of it straight off, and still wanted more.

十數碗 takes 數 as shù, an indefinite number; 還 is hái, still. The chapter began with him draining a bowl at a draught, and it ends with him doing the same to the convalescent gruel.

Pilgrim said with a laugh, "Blockhead, eat less of it — don't make yourself a sandbag belly, it looks like nothing at all."

少 is shǎo; 肚 is dù. 沙包肚 — a sandbag belly — is Wukong's own coinage and the fifth joke he has made on this subject.

Eight Rules said, "No matter, no matter — I'm no sow, what have I to fear from it?"

Both 沒 are méi; 做甚 takes 甚 as shén. 母豬 is the pig's own retort to a pregnancy joke, and it closes the running gag by conceding the premise entirely.

And the household did indeed go off again to set about cooking rice.

Eleven characters, and the passage ends on a household resigning itself to feeding him.