香房交歡 The Bridal Chamber Prepared
卻說那女怪放下兇惡之心，重整歡愉之色，叫：「小的們，把前後門都關緊了。」又使兩個支更，防守行者，但聽門響，即時通報。卻又教：「女童，將臥房收拾齊整，掌燭焚香，請唐御弟來，我與他交歡。」遂把長老從後邊攙出。那女怪弄出十分嬌媚之態，攜定唐僧道：「常言：『黃金未為貴，安樂值錢多。』且和你做會夫妻兒耍子去也。」這長老咬定牙關，聲也不透。欲待不去，恐他生心害命，只得戰兢兢，跟著他步入香房。卻如痴如啞，那裡擡頭舉目，更不曾看他房裡是甚床鋪幔帳，也不知有甚箱籠梳妝。那女怪說出的雨意雲情，亦漠然無聽。却说那女怪放下凶恶之心，重整欢愉之色，叫：「小的们，把前后门都关紧了。」又使两个支更，防守行者，但听门响，即时通报。却又教：「女童，将卧房收拾齐整，掌烛焚香，请唐御弟来，我与他交欢。」遂把长老从后边搀出。那女怪弄出十分娇媚之态，携定唐僧道：「常言：『黄金未为贵，安乐值钱多。』且和你做会夫妻儿耍子去也。」这长老咬定牙关，声也不透。欲待不去，恐他生心害命，只得战兢兢，跟着他步入香房。却如痴如哑，那里抬头举目，更不曾看他房里是甚床铺幔帐，也不知有甚箱笼梳妆。那女怪说出的雨意云情，亦漠然无听。
逐句解 Line by line
Now the woman fiend laid aside her savage temper, composed her pleasant looks afresh, and called, “Little ones, shut the front and back doors fast.”
重整 takes 重 as chóng, again or afresh; the zhòng that means heavy would be wrong. The parallel makes it plain — one thing is put down, another taken up again.
She set two of them to keep the night watches and guard against Pilgrim, with orders that at the least sound at the door they should report it at once.
支更 takes 更 as gēng, the night watch. The same character reads gèng, the adverb, a few lines later, so both stand within one passage. She is posting sentries — remember that when Pilgrim comes back in the morning.
Then she gave a further order: “Girls, put the bedchamber in order, light the candles and burn the incense, and ask the Tang emperor's sworn brother in, for I mean to take my pleasure with him.”
教 is jiào, to give an order. And 交歡 is stated flatly, with no euphemism at all — which is worth noticing given how carefully religious her language was an hour ago.
So they helped the elder out from the back of the house.
攙 is to hold someone up by the arm, as at the earlier bringing-out. The verb keeps coming back, and the reader is meant to notice that Tripitaka never walks anywhere under his own power.
The woman fiend put on her most alluring airs, took the Tang Monk fast by the hand and said, “There is an old saying: gold is not the precious thing; ease and delight are worth more money.
未為貴 takes 為 as the linking wéi, "to be reckoned"; the purposive wèi would be wrong. 安樂 takes 樂 as lè, joy, not the yuè of music. 十分 takes 分 as fēn.
“Come and play at being man and wife with me a while.”
夫妻兒 takes the curled-tongue ending er and 耍子 the light zi. Listen to the register drop: she quotes a stately proverb and then, in the very next breath, suggests they play at husbands and wives.
The elder set his teeth fast and would not let out a sound.
咬定牙關 — to clamp the jaw shut — is the fixed expression for holding out under pressure, and English does the same thing with "grit your teeth". 不透 takes bú, 透 being fourth tone.
He would have refused to go, but feared she might take it into her head to have his life; so he could only follow her, trembling, into the perfumed chamber.
跟著 is the ongoing-action zhe. 戰兢兢 is a doubled sound-word for trembling and keeps its ordinary reading. 只得 takes the attainment dé.
Yet he was as one witless and dumb. How should he raise his head or lift his eyes? He never once looked to see what bed or hangings her room held, nor did he know what chests or dressing-things stood there.
那裡 is rhetorical here — how should he? — so 那 is nǎ. 更 is the adverb gèng, against the gēng of the night watch a few lines above. Both 甚 are the question word shén, not the intensifying shèn. 床鋪 takes 鋪 as the noun pù.
And to all the talk of rain and cloud that the woman fiend poured out, he listened not at all.
雨意雲情 draws on the rain-and-cloud figure for sexual union, a euphemism that goes back to a famous old rhapsody and is about as worn in Chinese as "spending the night" is in English. 漠然無聽 closes the run of negatives the whole passage is built from.
The demon's preparations are those of a householder, and the novel lists them in order: front and back doors barred, two servants set to keep the watches and listen for Pilgrim, the bedchamber tidied, candles lit, incense burnt, the guest invited in. None of it is demonic. She is securing a perimeter and dressing a room. The only word that gives the business away is 交歡, which she uses to her maidservants with no euphemism whatever.
Against all this Tripitaka does nothing at all, and the passage is built entirely out of his refusals. He sets his teeth and lets out no sound; he would have declined to go and cannot; he is as one witless and dumb; he never raises his head, never looks at the bed or the hangings, does not know what chests are in the room, and hears none of what she says. Five or six clauses in a row are negative, and the accumulated effect is of a man making himself absent while still in the room.
That is the chapter's own answer to its title, which promises that a nature kept straight and steadily cultivated leaves the body unmarred. Here is what the cultivation actually looks like from outside: not eloquence, not argument, not power — he has none against her — but a clenched jaw and a refusal to look up. And the novel is careful to record that he goes in trembling, 戰兢兢. The virtue on display is not fearlessness.