自去化些齋 The Master Will Beg Himself
行者問道：「師父，這條路平坦無邪，因何不走？」八戒道：「師兄好不通情。師父在馬上坐得困了，也讓他下來關關風是。」三藏道：「不是關風，我看那裡是個人家，意欲自去化些齋吃。」行者问道：「师父，这条路平坦无邪，因何不走？」八戒道：「师兄好不通情。师父在马上坐得困了，也让他下来关关风是。」三藏道：「不是关风，我看那里是个人家，意欲自去化些斋吃。」
逐句解 Line by line
Pilgrim asked, "Master, this road is level and holds nothing untoward. Why do you not go on?"
無邪 is literally "nothing crooked" — Pilgrim is reporting that he has checked the road and found no monster on it. He is the party's threat assessment, and his question is the sound of a bodyguard who cannot see why the car has stopped.
Eight Rules said, "Elder brother, how little you understand of feelings."
好不 is a trap for anyone reading word by word. It looks like a negative and works as an intensifier: 好不通情 means "how very unfeeling," not "quite fails to be unfeeling." Chinese still does this — 好不熱鬧 means a place is heaving, not empty.
"The master has sat on that horse till he is worn through. Let him get down and take a little air, why not."
得 is de here, the small joining word that hooks a verb to the state it produced: sat — and the result was exhaustion. It is not dé, to obtain. 關關風 doubles the verb to soften it, the way English adds "just a little": not air oneself, but air oneself a bit.
Tripitaka said, "It is not for the air. I see a household over there, and I have a mind to go myself and beg a little plain fare."
那裡 is nà lǐ, "over there," a finger pointing. Hold that reading — the very same two characters turn up in Pilgrim's next speech doing something completely different. 化齋, huà zhāi, is begging for alms-food, the monk's ordinary means of eating.
The comedy here is entirely a matter of rank. Pilgrim sees a road; Eight Rules sees a tired old man on a horse; Tripitaka sees lunch. All three are right, and only one of them is about to be captured.
Eight Rules gets the good line, and it is worth noticing how he gets it. He does not contradict Pilgrim outright — he accuses him of being unfeeling, which is a charge Pilgrim can neither deny nor really answer. Coming from the party's laziest member, framed as concern for the master's comfort, it is beautifully self-serving. He wants a rest too.
Tripitaka's request is the hinge of the whole chapter. He is not asking to be spared anything. He is asking to do the humblest job in the party himself, for once, because the house is close and the day is fine. It is a decent impulse, and the book is about to punish it thoroughly.