放聲大哭 She Weeps in the Study
且不言行者這裡觀看景致。卻說那女子跑得粉汗淋淋，諕得蘭心吸吸，徑入書房裡面。原來牛魔王正在那裡靜玩丹書。這女子沒好氣倒在懷裡，抓耳撓腮，放聲大哭。且不言行者这里观看景致。却说那女子跑得粉汗淋淋，諕得兰心吸吸，径入书房里面。原来牛魔王正在那里静玩丹书。这女子没好气倒在怀里，抓耳挠腮，放声大哭。
逐句解 Line by line
But leave the Pilgrim here, looking his fill at the scenery.
且不言 is the storyteller's formula for putting one thread down — "but leave him there for the moment." It is answered by 卻說 in the very next sentence, and the pair works like a cut between two cameras rather than a jump in time.
The story turns to the woman, who had run till the powder on her face was streaked with sweat and her orchid heart fluttered with fright, and who went straight into the study.
得 appears twice and is the toneless complement marker both times: 跑得 and 諕得 each introduce the result of an action rather than an attainment. 諕 is xià, to frighten, not the háo a dictionary also lists for it. 蘭心, the orchid heart, is the conventional figure for a refined woman's feelings.
It turned out that the Bull Demon King was there at that moment, quietly poring over a book of cinnabar lore.
那裡 is the pointing kind here — he was in that place — so 那 is nà. Four passages later the same two characters turn into a question and take nǎ. 丹書 is a treatise on cinnabar alchemy: the Bull King is doing his homework when the storm arrives.
The woman, quite out of temper, collapsed into his arms, clawed at her ears and scratched at her cheeks, and wept aloud.
倒 is dǎo, to fall — she goes down into his lap. Three passages later the same character is dào and works as an adverb instead, which is why this one has to be pinned down. And 抓耳撓腮 is still exactly what Chinese reaches for when somebody is beside themselves — clawing at ears and cheeks. That the phrase spends most of its life being applied to a monkey, and is here applied to a fox spirit weeping into a bull's lap, is one of the small pleasures of reading this book in the original.
The chapter changes scene with a matched pair of storyteller's formulas — one to set the Pilgrim down, one to pick the woman up — and the join is worth noticing because nothing at all happens in between. He is admiring a landscape; she is running for her life; the narrative pivots on two phrases and follows her through the door.
The Bull Demon King's first appearance in this novel since chapter three is domestic to the point of anticlimax. He is not on a battlefield or in council but sitting in a study, reading quietly about cinnabar, when a weeping woman falls into his lap. The text has spent an entire chapter building him up as the one power who can put out the fire, and introduces him sitting down.