休得心焦 Do Not Fret Over It
樵子見行者沉思默慮，嗟嘆不已，便笑道：「長老，你出家人，有何憂疑？這條小路兒向東去，不尚五六里，就是芭蕉洞，休得心焦。」行者道：「不瞞樵哥說，我是東土唐朝差往西天求經的唐僧大徒弟，前年在火雲洞，曾與羅剎之子紅孩兒有些言語，但恐羅剎懷仇不與，故生憂疑。」樵子见行者沉思默虑，嗟叹不已，便笑道：「长老，你出家人，有何忧疑？这条小路儿向东去，不尚五六里，就是芭蕉洞，休得心焦。」行者道：「不瞒樵哥说，我是东土唐朝差往西天求经的唐僧大徒弟，前年在火云洞，曾与罗刹之子红孩儿有些言语，但恐罗刹怀仇不与，故生忧疑。」
逐句解 Line by line
The woodcutter, seeing Pilgrim sunk in thought and sighing without stopping, laughed and said, 'Venerable Elder, you are a man who has left the household — what have you to be anxious about?'
出家人, "one who has left the household," is the standard designation for a monk, and the woodcutter's point is that such a person is supposed to be past private quarrels. 嗟嘆不已, sighing without stopping.
'Take this little path eastward — not five or six lǐ — and you come to the Banana-Leaf Cave. There is no need to fret.'
小路兒 takes 兒 as the genuine curled-back ending, just "a little path." 不尚 is "not so much as, not even." 休得 is the fixed way of saying don't, with 得 as dé; 心焦 is a burning heart, meaning worry. This is the chapter's only other 焦, and it settles the reading of the first one: 焦 is anxiety here, so 焦著 in Pilgrim's 且莫隔年焦著 is worry taking hold, not a cake drying out.
Pilgrim said, 'I'll not deceive you, brother woodcutter. I am the senior disciple of the Tang Monk, sent by the Tang court in the Land of the East to fetch scriptures from the West. Some years ago at the Fiery Cloud Cave I had words with the Rākṣasī's son, the Red Boy; and I am afraid she may hold the grudge and refuse me — which is why I am uneasy.'
朝 is cháo here, the dynasty or court, against the zhāo of 朝三暮二 and 朝來雨 elsewhere in this chapter. 差 is again chāi, sent on a commission. And 有些言語, "we had a few words," is considerable understatement for a battle that ran three chapters and needed the Bodhisattva to end it.
The woodcutter's question is sharper than it looks. You are a man who has left the household — what have you to be anxious about? Leaving the household is supposed to sever exactly this sort of entanglement, and Pilgrim is visibly snarled up in five hundred years of other people's family business.
His answer is a full confession, and it is the longest single stretch of speech in the chapter. He gives his credentials, the place, the year, the injured party and the grievance, and he does not minimise: 有些言語, "we had a few words," is dry understatement about a battle that took three chapters and had to be settled by the Bodhisattva in person.
What makes the exchange work is how lopsided it is. A woodcutter on a hillside is being told, calmly and in order, that the man in front of him fought the local deity's child and lost him to a Bodhisattva. He does not appear to find this remarkable, and his reply will be practical advice on how to conduct an interview.