誤答三年 I Told Him Three Years
如此做了三晝夜,道場已畢。唐僧想著雷音,一心要去,又相辭謝。員外道:「老師辭別甚急,想是連日佛事冗忙,多致簡慢,有見怪之意?」三藏道:「深擾尊府,不知何以為報,怎敢言怪?但只當時聖君送我出關,問幾時可回,我就誤答三年可回。不期在路耽閣,今已十四年矣。取經未知有無,及回又得十二三年,豈不違背聖旨?罪何可當?望老員外讓貧僧前去,待取得經回,再造府久住些時,有何不可?」如此做了三昼夜,道场已毕。唐僧想着雷音,一心要去,又相辞谢。员外道:「老师辞别甚急,想是连日佛事冗忙,多致简慢,有见怪之意?」三藏道:「深扰尊府,不知何以为报,怎敢言怪?但只当时圣君送我出关,问几时可回,我就误答三年可回。不期在路耽阁,今已十四年矣。取经未知有无,及回又得十二三年,岂不违背圣旨?罪何可当?望老员外让贫僧前去,待取得经回,再造府久住些时,有何不可?」
逐句解 Line by line
So it went on for three whole days and nights, and the rite was done. The Tang monk, thinking of Thunder Sound, was set on going, and took his leave again. The squire said, "You are in a great hurry to be off, teacher. I suppose these days of services have kept us busy and we have been neglectful — is it that you have taken offence?"
⚠ 想著雷音 — thinking of Thunder Sound. It is the name of the monastery on Vulture Peak, the place he has been walking to for fourteen years, and it is now eight hundred li away. He has sat through three days of somebody else's ceremony with that in his head. ⚠ Kou Hong's question is the most decent thing in the passage and it is completely wrong. He cannot imagine a guest wanting to leave for any reason except a slight, so he apologises for being too busy. He has misread the situation in the kindest possible direction.
Tripitaka said, "I have put your household to enormous trouble and do not know how to repay it — how should I dare speak of taking offence? It is only that when the sage ruler saw me out through the pass, he asked how long before I might return, and I answered him wrongly: three years. I did not expect the delays on the road, and it is now fourteen years."
⚠⚠ Here is the real reason, and it is not a religious one. He told the emperor three years. 我就誤答三年可回 — I answered him wrongly, three years — and the word he uses is the one for a mistake, not a lie. ⚠ Fourteen years against three. He is not urgent because Vulture Peak is calling him. He is urgent because he is eleven years late reporting back to the throne, and he has been late for so long that the arithmetic has become frightening. That is a very human thing for the novel to put at the centre of its holiest character. What is driving him out of this comfortable house is not devotion. It is the memory of a promise made at a gate, casually, to a man who was not going to forget it.
"Whether I get the scriptures I do not know, and the journey back will take another twelve or thirteen years. Would that not be flouting the imperial command? How could I bear the guilt of it? I beg the old squire to let this poor monk go on. When I have the scriptures and am coming home, I shall call at your house again and stay a good while — where would be the harm in that?"
⚠ Do the arithmetic with him, because he has. Fourteen years out. An unknown time still to go. Twelve or thirteen years back. He is sixty-four years' worth of promise into a three-year errand and the far end is not in sight. ⚠ 又得十二三年 — the return will take another twelve or thirteen. The little word before the number looks like the modern one for must, and it is not: across the whole novel the same pairing appears seven times in six chapters and every other one means to get or obtain. So this site goes with its band and keeps the plain reading. ⚠ And notice the promise he makes to get out of the door. He will come back afterwards and stay a good long time. He is, in the politest possible way, doing exactly what he did on the doorstep two thousand characters ago: agreeing to something later so he can decline it now.
The chapter finally lets Tripitaka explain himself, and the explanation is not what a reader of the previous ninety-five chapters would expect. He is not burning to reach the Buddha. He is worried about a deadline he gave the emperor of China in a moment of optimism fourteen years ago.
It is one of the most quietly human passages in the book. He calls the three-year answer a mistake, which it was; he cannot say how much longer the outward journey has to run; and he adds the return leg to the total out loud, which is the gesture of a man who has been doing this sum privately for some time.
And Kou Hong, standing in front of him, has understood none of it. His opening move was to apologise for being insufficiently attentive. The two men are having entirely different conversations, both in good faith, and the next passage is where that stops being funny.