定風法兒 The Wind Stilling Charm
羅剎道:「被我罵也不敢回言,砍也不敢動手。後被我一扇子搧去。不知在那裡尋得個定風法兒,今早又在門外叫喚。是我又使扇搧,莫想得動。急掄劍砍時,他就不讓我了。我怕他棒重,就走入洞裡,緊關上門。不知他又從何處,鑽在我肚腹之內,險被他害了性命。是我叫他幾聲叔叔,將扇與他去也。」罗刹道:「被我骂也不敢回言,砍也不敢动手。后被我一扇子搧去。不知在那里寻得个定风法儿,今早又在门外叫唤。是我又使扇搧,莫想得动。急抡剑砍时,他就不让我了。我怕他棒重,就走入洞里,紧关上门。不知他又从何处,钻在我肚腹之内,险被他害了性命。是我叫他几声叔叔,将扇与他去也。」
逐句解 Line by line
The Rākṣasī said, "Railed at, he dared not answer back; slashed at, he dared not lift a hand."
The two halves are cut to the same pattern — 罵也不敢…, 砍也不敢… — and both instances of 不 take bù before the dipping tone of 敢.
"Afterwards I fanned him away with a single stroke of the fan."
一扇子 is an ordinary number with its counting word, so 一 takes the regular shift to yí before the falling tone of 扇. The chapter's twin fan-characters are side by side again: 扇 is the noun shàn, 搧 the verb shān.
"I do not know where he got hold of some wind-stilling trick, but this morning he was at the door calling again."
那裡 is a question here — where did he get it — so 那 is nǎ. 兒 in 法兒 is the swallowed suffix er. 尋得 takes dé, attainment.
"I used the fan on him again, and could not make him budge."
得 is the toneless de of the can-do shape — 想得動, able to move him — against the dé of 尋得 in the sentence before.
"When I swung the sword at him in haste, he would give way to me no longer."
不讓我了 marks the turn. The forbearance she has been describing stops at this point, and everything she says afterwards is about being overmatched.
"Fearing the weight of his cudgel, I went into the cave and shut the door fast."
重 is zhòng, of weight. Six sentences in, her story has travelled from attacking him to barricading a door.
"I do not know by what way he got in, but he bored into my belly, and my life was very near being taken."
肚 is dù. The episode she compresses into one sentence took up the close of the previous chapter.
"So I called him uncle a few times, and gave him the fan and let him go."
將 is jiāng, fronting the object. She does not mention that the fan she handed over was a fake. She is about to be scolded into mentioning it.
The whole second half of the previous chapter is retold here in eight sentences by the person who lost it, and the compression is what makes it interesting. The sword-fight at the door, the fan-stroke that blew him clean off the mountain, the wind-stilling charm, the second refusal, the Great Sage inside her body — she gives all of it in a plain sequence with no rhetoric whatever.
Her account is scrupulously accurate, which is exactly what distinguishes it from the Jade-Faced Princess's account of a comparable encounter earlier in this chapter. The Princess reported a chase and a narrow escape from death where there had been neither. The Rākṣasī reports being outmatched, cornered and invaded, and every word of it happened. She has no reason to exaggerate to a husband she is trying to keep.
The last sentence is the one she is uncomfortable with, and it shows in what she leaves out. She called him uncle and gave him the fan — and says nothing at all about the substitution. She will supply that in the next passage, but only after being told off, and the omission tells us she is not proud of the manoeuvre.