岸上交鋒 Blows on the Bank
那孫大聖在東岸上眼不轉睛，只望著河邊水勢。忽然見波浪翻騰，喊聲號吼，八戒先跳上岸道：「來了，來了。」沙僧也到岸邊道：「來了，來了。」那妖邪隨後叫：「那裡走？」才出頭，被行者喝道：「看棍。」那妖邪閃身躲過，使銅鎚急架相還。一個在河邊湧浪，一個在岸上施威。搭上手未經三合，那妖遮架不住，打個花，又淬於水裡，遂此風平浪息。那孙大圣在东岸上眼不转睛，只望着河边水势。忽然见波浪翻腾，喊声号吼，八戒先跳上岸道：「来了，来了。」沙僧也到岸边道：「来了，来了。」那妖邪随后叫：「那里走？」才出头，被行者喝道：「看棍。」那妖邪闪身躲过，使铜锤急架相还。一个在河边涌浪，一个在岸上施威。搭上手未经三合，那妖遮架不住，打个花，又淬于水里，遂此风平浪息。
逐句解 Line by line
The Great Sage on the eastern bank never once shifted his eyes, but watched the set of the water at the river's edge.
眼不轉睛, "the eye not turning the pupil" — unwavering attention. 望著 durative 著 zhe.
Suddenly he saw the waves heave and toss, with shouting and a howl, and Eight Rules leapt ashore first, calling: "He's coming! He's coming!"
號吼: 號 read háo, "to howl" — not hào ("a title, to call out"), which is pypinyin's default and which would give the wrong animal entirely.
Sha Monk reached the bank too: "He's coming! He's coming!"
The identical four characters are given to both disciples in succession. The repetition is a stage effect — two voices on the bank — rather than an oversight of the text.
The fiend came up behind them, shouting: "Where do you think you're running to?"
Two readings of 那 in one segment, fixed positionally: 那妖邪 deictic nà, then 那裡走 interrogative nǎ — the standard pursuer's cry.
He had barely got his head clear when Pilgrim roared at him: "Mind the rod!"
才出頭 — the timing is the entire plan, and the narrative gives it three characters. 看棍 is the formulaic warning cry that precedes a blow.
The fiend twisted aside and dodged it, and used his copper mallet to parry in haste and strike back.
相還: 還 read huán, "to requite, to return a blow" — not the adverbial hái; 相 xiāng, "in return." The dodge is what defeats the ambush.
The one raised his waves at the river's edge, the other showed his might upon the bank.
The 一個…一個 pairing is the rhapsody's construction reduced to a single line of prose — the same balance, without the doctrine.
They had not joined hands for three bouts before the fiend could ward no longer; he made a feint, plunged back down into the water, and with that the wind fell and the waves went still.
未經三合 — three bouts is the term the demon himself named at his gate, and the narrator now counts it off against him. 打個花, vernacular for a feint or a flourish; 淬, to plunge in.
The trap closes and does not hold. Everything Wukong designed works as designed — the feigned rout, the pursuit, the head breaking the surface, the rod already raised — and the demon simply twists aside. What follows is the chapter's second failure in the same number of pages, and it is decided by three characters: 躲過, he dodged.
The count of three bouts is the block's quiet cruelty. At his own gate the demon offered terms — hold out three bouts and I return your master, fail and I eat you both — and here, on ground of his enemy's choosing, he cannot manage three bouts himself and goes back under the water. Neither side remarks on it. The block ends on 風平浪息, the wind falling and the waves going quiet, which is exactly where the chapter began two blocks ago, and the pilgrims have gained nothing at all.