丟個眼色 Give Him A Look
女怪道：「你快去遞了茶，對你師父丟個眼色，著他進來，我有要緊的話說。」果然那仙童將五杯茶拿出去，道士斂衣，雙手拿一杯遞與三藏，然後與八戒、沙僧、行者。女怪道：「你快去递了茶，对你师父丢个眼色，着他进来，我有要紧的话说。」果然那仙童将五杯茶拿出去，道士敛衣，双手拿一杯递与三藏，然后与八戒、沙僧、行者。
逐句解 Line by line
"Go and hand the tea round, quickly," said the woman-monster, "and throw your master a look. Have him come in here — I have something urgent to say to him."
丟個眼色 is to throw someone a look, and it is still the phrase: a signal passed across a room that everybody present can see and only one person can read. 著 here is zhuó, the dispatching band of a character with four readings — have him, get him to, send him in. Not the zhe that keeps an action running, and not the zháo of hitting the mark. The whole instruction — 對你師父丟個眼色，著他進來 — is twelve characters of tradecraft, and she delivers it without pausing.
Sure enough, the lad carried out five cups of tea. The Daoist drew his robe together, took up a cup in both hands and presented it to Tripitaka, and after that to Eight Rules, Sha Monk and Pilgrim.
Count the cups. Five, for four guests and one host — and both the number and the order are about to matter more than anything else in the chapter. 將 is jiāng, the marker that puts the object before the verb: took the five cups and carried them out. 斂衣 is drawing the robe in, and 雙手, both hands, is the correct respectful way to pass anything to a superior in Chinese etiquette — a form still observed today when handing over a business card. He serves the master first and Pilgrim last.
Two instructions, delivered in one breath, and every word of the first is operational: serve the tea, signal the host, get him alone, say nothing here. She does not explain herself to the boy and the boy does not need explaining to. What the passage shows is that this house already has a working chain of command that runs through the kitchen, and the guests are sitting inside it drinking.
Then the cups. Five cups is the detail to hold on to, because four guests and one host is not the arithmetic it appears to be. And the order — Tripitaka, then Eight Rules, then Sha Monk, then Pilgrim — is not politeness alone. Serving the sharpest pair of eyes in the room last is a decision somebody made.
The etiquette in this passage is flawless, which is what makes it horrible. 斂衣, the robe gathered; 雙手, both hands; the master served first. Every gesture is the correct one, performed correctly, by a man who has just been given a signal from a back room. The pilgrims are being shown perfect respect, and the tea is already poured.