原文 Original text
繁體 Traditional
Reader's edition
尋鈴遇響
The Bell and the Breathing
噫！有這般事。原來那東廊下有一個小道士才睡下，忽然起來道：「我的手鈴兒忘記在殿上，若失落了，明日師父見責。」與那同睡者道：「你睡著，等我尋去。」急忙中不穿底衣，止扯一領直裰，徑到正殿中尋鈴。摸來摸去，鈴兒摸著了。正欲回頭，只聽得有呼吸之聲。道士害怕，急拽步往外走時，不知怎的，屣著一個荔枝核子，撲的滑了一跌。噹的一聲，把個鈴兒跌得粉碎。噫！有这般事。原来那东廊下有一个小道士才睡下，忽然起来道：「我的手铃儿忘记在殿上，若失落了，明日师父见责。」与那同睡者道：「你睡着，等我寻去。」急忙中不穿底衣，止扯一领直裰，径到正殿中寻铃。摸来摸去，铃儿摸着了。正欲回头，只听得有呼吸之声。道士害怕，急拽步往外走时，不知怎的，屣着一个荔枝核子，扑的滑了一跌。当的一声，把个铃儿跌得粉碎。
逐句解 Line by line
噫！
噫！
Ah!
噫, an exclamation.
有這般事。
有这般事。
That such a thing should happen.
有這般事 = “there is such a thing.”
原來那東廊下有一個小道士才睡下，忽然起來道：「我的手鈴兒忘記在殿上，若失落了，明日師父見責。」
原来那东廊下有一个小道士才睡下，忽然起来道：「我的手铃儿忘记在殿上，若失落了，明日师父见责。」
Now under the eastern gallery there was a young Daoist who had just lain down, but suddenly got up: “I’ve left my hand-bell up in the hall — if it’s lost, the master will scold me tomorrow.”
那東廊: 那 = nà. 手鈴兒: 兒 = er, suffix. 一個: 一 = yí. 見責, to be blamed.
與那同睡者道：「你睡著，等我尋去。」
与那同睡者道：「你睡着，等我寻去。」
He said to the one sleeping beside him: “You sleep on — I’ll go look for it.”
那同睡者: 那 = nà. 睡著: resultative 著 = zháo.
急忙中不穿底衣，止扯一領直裰，徑到正殿中尋鈴。
急忙中不穿底衣，止扯一领直裰，径到正殿中寻铃。
In his haste, without putting on his underclothes, he threw on a single Daoist robe and went straight to the main hall to find the bell.
急忙中 / 正殿中: 中 = zhōng (×2). 一領: 一 = yì. 不穿: 不 = bù before chuān. 直裰, a Daoist robe.
摸來摸去，鈴兒摸著了。
摸来摸去，铃儿摸着了。
Groping about, he found the bell by feel.
鈴兒: 兒 = er. 摸著了: resultative 著 = zháo.
正欲回頭，只聽得有呼吸之聲。
正欲回头，只听得有呼吸之声。
Just as he was about to turn back, he heard the sound of breathing.
聽得: complement 得 = de.
道士害怕，急拽步往外走時，不知怎的，屣著一個荔枝核子，撲的滑了一跌。
道士害怕，急拽步往外走时，不知怎的，屣着一个荔枝核子，扑的滑了一跌。
The Daoist took fright, and hurrying to stride out, somehow trod on a lychee pit and went slipping and sprawling with a thud.
屣著: resultative 著 = zháo, “trod on.” 核子: 子 = zi, suffix (pypinyin mis-defaults zǐ). 一個 / 一跌: 一 = yí/yì. 拽步, to stride.
噹的一聲，把個鈴兒跌得粉碎。
当的一声，把个铃儿跌得粉碎。
With a clang, the bell was shattered in the fall.
鈴兒: 兒 = er. 跌得: complement 得 = de. 一聲: 一 = yì.
總評 Commentary
The undoing arrives by pure farce. A young Daoist, remembering his forgotten hand-bell, slips back into the dark hall to fetch it — and hears breathing where there should be only idols. Panicking, he treads on one of the pilgrims’ discarded lychee pits, goes sprawling, and smashes the very bell he came to save. The chapter has built its reversal out of the smallest debris of the feast, a fruit-stone underfoot, and the crash sets the whole abbey in motion.