借個硯臺 Paper Brush And Borrowed Inkstone
行者笑道：「你管他怎的？且顧了自家的病著。」三藏道：「正是，正是。你且扶我起來，取出我的紙、筆、墨，寺裡借個硯臺來使使。」行者笑道：「你管他怎的？且顾了自家的病着。」三藏道：「正是，正是。你且扶我起来，取出我的纸、笔、墨，寺里借个砚台来使使。」
逐句解 Line by line
Pilgrim laughed and said, "What are you bothering about her for?
The laugh is not warm. Pilgrim knows what she is, has said so, and was overruled.
Look after your own illness first."
著 is zhe again, here softening the end of an instruction — get on with looking after it. The character carries four distinct readings in this project and this is the commonest.
Tripitaka said, "True, true.
He gives in at once. He always does.
Now help me up, and get out my paper, brush and ink, and borrow an inkstone from the monastery for me to use."
Paper, brush, ink and inkstone are the four treasures of the scholar's studio. Tripitaka carries three of them across a continent and has to borrow the fourth, which tells you how much of a court cleric he still is.
Pilgrim brushes the question aside with something close to rudeness, and Tripitaka drops it instantly. The dynamic between them is being sketched in miniature: the master's compassion is easily deflected, and his disciple's certainty is never quite listened to.
Then the writing kit comes out, and the scene turns. A sick man asking for brush and ink is a man who has decided something.
The detail of borrowing the inkstone is lovely. He has been on the road for years and still travels with a scholar's tools, incomplete. The Tang court has never quite let go of him.