The old man nodded and laughed. "This monk can certainly talk.

倒 is dào, the band that means on the contrary, actually, more than you would expect — not the dǎo of falling over, which is what the character usually is in this book. 弄嘴 is literally to play with the mouth: to be clever, to have a smart answer for everything. The old man is annoyed and amused in about equal measure, which is the reaction Pilgrim was going for.

I suppose you have been wandering about with that master of yours, picking up a few tricks here and there — you can probably drive off goblins and settle somebody's house against evil spirits.

This is the old man guessing at the boy's qualifications and getting them comically wrong. 遊方 is the technical word for a monk on the road, wandering without a fixed temple. 魍魎 are the small nuisance spirits of the wild — the sort a village exorcist handles for a fee. 鎮宅降邪 is house-settling and evil-subduing, the ordinary jobbing trade of a country priest, and 降 is xiáng, to subdue, not the jiàng of descending. He is describing Pilgrim as a small-town pest controller.

You have never run into a really vicious monster."

Ten characters and the tone hardens. 不曾 is have not ever, and 曾 takes céng here rather than its surname reading. The base gets that right unaided, which is worth knowing because its near twin 可曾, two of which turn up later in this chapter, has to be forced at every occurrence. One character of difference, opposite results. 十分 is ten parts out of ten again, doing the work of thoroughly.