同堂學藝 Trained In The Same Hall
原來那盤絲洞七個女怪與這道士同堂學藝。自從穿了舊衣,喚出兒子,徑來此處。正在後面裁剪衣服,忽見那童子看茶,便問道:「童兒,有甚客來了,這般忙冗?」原来那盘丝洞七个女怪与这道士同堂学艺。自从穿了旧衣,唤出儿子,径来此处。正在后面裁剪衣服,忽见那童子看茶,便问道:「童儿,有甚客来了,这般忙冗?」
逐句解 Line by line
Now as it happened, the seven women-monsters of Gossamer Cave and this Daoist had learned their arts in the same hall.
原來 is the storyteller's reveal word — "as it turns out", the hinge he uses when he steps back to explain something the characters do not know. 同堂學藝 means studying under one master in one hall, and it is a strong bond in Chinese fiction: fellow students of the same teacher call each other elder and younger brother and sister for life. They are not allies of convenience. They are family.
Ever since they had put their old clothes back on and called out their sons, they had come straight here.
Seven words of plot, compressed. 舊衣 and 兒子 are both callbacks to the last chapter, and both are needed to make sense of this one: the women lost their clothes at a bathing pool, and their "sons" are the little spiders that spin the webs. 徑 means directly, by the shortest way, with no stop — they did not wander here, they came for help.
They were at the back cutting out clothes when they suddenly caught sight of the lad fetching tea, and asked, "Boy — what guests have arrived, that you are in such a scramble?"
The detail is almost funny: seven demons in a back room, sewing. 裁剪衣服 — cutting out clothes — is them replacing what they lost. 童子 takes 子 as zǐ, full tone, because this is the literary compound, the same 子 as in 弟子 and 君子; the neutral zi belongs to ordinary nouns like 罐子. And 甚 is shén, meaning what, not shèn, meaning very — a distinction the chapter needs eight times and gets right by sense alone, since the character is identical.
The trap snaps shut here, and it does so by explaining a coincidence. Until this sentence, the abbey was just the next building on the road. Now it is the one place in the world the pilgrims should not have stopped, because the man pouring their tea went to school with the seven women Pilgrim's party humiliated a chapter ago.
The relationship is worth taking seriously. 同堂學藝 — same hall, same master — creates an obligation in Chinese fiction closer to kinship than to friendship. Fellow disciples are 師兄 and 師妹, elder brother and younger sister, and an insult to one is a debt owed by all. The Daoist has not been told anything yet and already owes them.
And look what the women are doing while the world turns: sitting in a back room sewing, because they have no clothes. The book is perfectly willing to be funny and menacing in the same breath. It also quietly answers the question left hanging in the last passage — why did a Daoist flinch at the sight of four monks? He had not yet been told. He simply knew what his sisters looked like when they arrived.