by Jeremy Han
“Admiral of the West Seas, Zheng He, receive the Imperial Edict.” The man intoned in a well-practiced way honed by years of being the emperor’s voice. With each word he read, he moved his head expressively, his black hat bobbing.
“You are ordered to sail the Imperial Treasure Fleet to civilize the nations that inhabit the lands of the western seas. Illuminate these dark lands with the glory of the Ming and share with them the benevolence of the Son of Heaven, who graciously adopts all who submits to his sovereignty. By the authority of the emperor, you may dispense his favour among those who submit to the Dragon Throne and to use the might of the Ming to subdue those who do not show due respect to the Mandate of Heaven. You are hereby entrusted with this sacred mission by the Emperor Yong Le, the Son of Heaven. Acknowledge your orders.”
Zheng He repeated the words he had said thousands of times in accordance with protocol when accepting an imperial edict,
“Your loyal official accepts. Ten thousand years, ten thousand years, Long live his Majesty.”
The eunuch smiled. His job was done. He reached over to the kneeling admiral and placed the scroll into his hands. When he was close enough, he handed a silk letter to the admiral and spoke conspiratorially,
“A secret correspondence from his Majesty.”
Zheng He said nothing. He knew the secret set of orders like the back of his hand. He accepted it with his head bowed. The eunuch smiled satisfactorily like a father pleased with an obedient child. After the ceremony, it was the customary dinner to honour the seafarers. Great cooking stations were set up to cater to the thousands of men who would sail tomorrow. A different kind of smoke rose to the sky as the evening came, filling the air with the fragrance of roasting meat. From the naval officers who sat in Zheng He’s dining hall, to the lower ranks who sat in tents, everyone would be fed well tonight. For the next few months, they would be eating food stored and cooked on board. The next meal on land would be at Quanzhou.
There was no pork served for the officers out of deference to the admiral’s religious beliefs but there was a lot of lamb. Toasts after toasts were presented to the officers present. The admiral thanked them for their hard work. Officials who were invited that were not part of the expeditionary force toasted them, wishing good luck and smooth seas. The land officers got drunk, but the naval ones remained alert. In a few hours time, they would set sail.
The next morning, Zheng He stood on the bridge of his flagship. The dawn was breaking over the horizon. The air was filled with the flapping sound of the great flags around his ship as the breeze rose. The darkness did not hide the movement of thousands of men preparing the Treasure Fleet from sailing. Yet, all the grand admiral had to do was to observe the time and give the order to sail. He did not have to involve himself with the physical activities that were needed to put forth such a great endeavour. That was what his officers were for. His closest officers did not disturb the great man standing on the bridge for they thought he must have ten thousand things on his mind before the sixth expedition sailed. He could hear the orders given and the responses replied in the predictable, disciplined way of a navy. He should have been thinking about the expedition, but in reality, he only had one thing bothering him: treason.
Soon the sun was up. Orange reflected off the water like a long trail of shimmering gold leading to the sky that cast long shadows over the fleet. The sky was clearing. Slowly the blue sky emerged like a shy bride. Seagulls called in a distance, mixing with the sound of the thousands of hands at work. Tides were measured, wind speed and directions taken. Depth was sounded and charts were re-confirmed. Equipment checked and re-checked. Safety devices that would ensure the lives of thousands were cleared by officers. Marine officers checked weapons while cavalry officers made sure their hoofed partners were well taken care off. The navigation officers tested the South-pointing spoons one more time as their lives and the success of their mission depended on it. These were the final checks. Tens of thousands of hours were put in for this day. The final check was done: the astrologer had consulted the charts and declared the stars were correctly aligned to grant the expedition a safe trip. The second-in-charge did a double check with all the key officers then he climbed the steps up the bridge and came next to Zheng He, bowing as he reported,
“All is ready, Lord. Permission to sail.”
Zheng He remained as still as a statue. Then he broke his stillness with a deep breath and dipped his chin with an almost imperceptible nod. The officer retreated three steps, then turned and gave the command in a parade-ground voice,
“SA-I-L!”
One word kicked off a thousand actions. Across the length of the six hundred foot boat, the verbal order was echoed. The seamen at the rear turned the massive rudders. The gigantic anchors were raised by the great pulleys powered by muscled men. Sails were raised and signallers raised coloured pennants to communicate the command of one man to thousands. The same actions were repeated across all the vessels lined up along the pier. Several thousand hands went to work at once in one well-oiled coordinated effort activated by one small nod of the head. The beat of the drum sounded. The cadence was even and rhythmic. Zheng He felt a slight movement like a bump as the massive ship moved. The ships moved out to sea as one, each one an organism within a larger organism. In about one week’s time, they would dock at Quanzhou if the temperamental goddess kept her temper in check. All in all, three hundred ships would sail from Quanzhou to the south. He would pick up some enemies of the state. Treason. The word resounded in his mind. Compassion and gratitude came next, eroding the first. As the ship sailed out of the harbour, the sea turned from a light green to a dark blue. He walked over to the railing and took out the silk letter from the emperor. He did not read what was in it. Each time he sailed, the emperor gave him the same orders – Find and kill Zhu Yun Wen. From his first expedition, the emperor gave him the orders with his own hand. This time, the emperor was far away on campaign. He heard that the monarch was sick. His sources told him the Son of Heaven was weakening. He took out the letter and when he confirmed that no one was looking, tossed it into the sea. The silk letter, the emperor’s wishes, quickly disappeared into the endless depth of the sea, the blue slowly eating up the silky white, casting the words, the intentions of the emperor into oblivion.
The die had been cast.
The sixth expedition has begun.
Treason would be committed.
SIXTY SIX
“Wait here.”
Zhao Qi signalled to the rest. They stopped and rested. Li Jing gave his daughter some water. Jian Wen sat next to the Farmer in silence and watched the commander head off somewhere. He had said earlier he would receive another set of instructions here. They were close to the Quanzhou now. Over the last few days the frequency of encountering travellers increased. Merchants and all sorts of people were heading toward the port. As a result they slowed down; it was better to be careful. So far they did not encounter any trouble and they often talked about their friends Long Wu and Yula, envying their settled bliss, looking forward to their own in a faraway land. They chatted about shared memories and made jokes about their friend as a father, but they all agreed that their friend deserved the happiness he found. Yula would make a good mother as well a sword wife, if there was such a thing.
Soon Zhao returned, “There is a small tea hut ahead. We’ll go there and rest.”
As they walked, Li asked Zhao, “What’s the plan, Commander?”
“I’m not sure. According to Wen’s instructions, we go to the teahouse and wait until someone tells us how we are to enter the city. I’ve checked; the teahouse is ahead. It looks harmless enough. ”
“It is getting dark.” The Acrobat said gravely. “The last time we entered a harmless teahouse, it was crawling with enemy.”
“I know.”
Li knew he should not press Zhao anymore. The commander had revealed all he knew. Zhao instructed, “Still, be alert.”
“Yes Commander.”
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nbsp; Li’s fingers slipped into his tunic and withdrew three throwing blades, holding them close to his body. They had not forgotten the ambush by the river where they lost Khun Sa. As they rounded a bend, the tea house came into view. It was more a shed with a stove; smoke curled into the sky from the stove, indicating that the place open for business. A white canvas flag fluttered in the wind with the word ‘cha’ written on it. A few tables with wooden benches were scattered around. They chose the tables furthest from the path and sat down. After awhile, the owner came out and said amiably,
“What would you like to have?”
“Some tea to start, and some hot, steamed mantou.” Zhao ordered,
The beverage and food came quickly enough and they ate without talking. The Acrobat ate with one hand, the other ready to throw the blades at any attacker. The Farmer sat at the other end, his staff not far away. Zhao positioned himself facing the kitchen. The proprietor looked at them to check if they were done, then he came out to collect the payment.
“Three copper coins Sir.”
Zhao handed him five coins, “Two extra for your kindness.” He said with a smile. The man bowed his head. “Thank you sir, I cannot accept your money without giving you something in return.” He went back to the shelter and brought out two more buns and handed it to Zhao. Then he went back to the kitchen, whistling away.
“Wait.” Zhao called after him. The proprietor turned with a quizzical look on his face.
“Is there an inn nearby for us to spend the night?” Zhao asked.
“Yes. Follow the path down the hill. There should be an inn but make sure you hurry. Lots of travellers these days.”
“Thank you.”
They left. Following the man’s instructions, they walked down the winding path until they came to a small settlement. It was less than a day’s walk to the city gates. Zhao saw the lanterns swaying on the front porch of a wooden two story house and went over. The door was opened and he went in. The rest stayed a distance from the inn. It was prudent to stay outside until it was deemed safe. Zhao spoke to the man behind the desk, gesturing here and there before he came out and beckoned them. The house was larger than it looked. Its hall stretched to include a dining area, and a side stair led them to rooms. They had rooms that faced the street so they could see if anyone came looking for them. When they were safely in the room, Zhao tore open a bun and found what he was looking for. There was a note. Zhao read through it quickly. It said,
“Fleet had sailed. Make haste to port. Beware, Dong chang at the gate. Find a way to Kai Yuan Si ‘Kai Yuan Temple’.”
It was an ancient temple inside the city built during the Tang dynasty. Zhao ate the bun and passed the rest out. He swallowed the piece of paper and then told the rest what it contained.
“The innkeeper and the teahouse owner are allies. He told me tomorrow there will be a procession of monks, merchants and tradesmen passing this way. They are part of Zheng He’s caravan of people heading south. They have passes from their local governments to enter Quanzhou and board the fleet. These people will spread religion, crafts and trade to the kingdoms that pay homage to the Ming. He said it has been arranged for us to join the caravan.”
“Are you sure it is not a trick?” Li Jing asked. As usual, he was the sceptical and vocal one whereas his friend the Farmer sat silently next to him. Jian Wen listened without saying anything.
“We will observe and see. Tonight we will deploy night watches. Tomorrow, it will be better to join the caravan. With numbers, it will be easier to enter the city. But one thing is for sure. The Eastern Depot will be watching the gates. We will decide how we want to enter the city when we get there. None of us has ever been to this city before so we will play by ear. For now, let us sleep. I will take the first watch.”
No one slept that night.
The next day, An Deli stood on the tower and looked at the mass of people thronging the city gates. The city was founded during the Tang dynasty and had greatly expanded over the one thousand years since. Ever since Ji left, he had tightened the sentry system. After he received word from the courier pigeon sent from Guizhou, he tightened it again. He stood on the wall with his hands placed on the railing and leaned forward; straining his eyes to pick out any sign if his prey was there. He gazed like a hawk. Yet he knew that no matter how secure a system was, when the number of people looked anything like those gathered outside, there would be some loophole. Yong stood next to him with his hands behind his back. The young man was diligent and eager to learn. An liked him. Ma Hun was at the mosque. The man had shaped up as well. Although An disliked Ma, he had to admit that with things heating up, the younger, hot headed man had gotten more in control of himself. He was running quite a good surveillance over at the Qingjing Mosque. Every hour, he would send someone to report to An.
From a distance, he could see another group of people coming. Already the queue stretched to the horizon as each person entering the city was searched and questioned. The distant group appeared to be a group of monks, and behind them some trades people with their carts. People entering the city fell into two groups: the first were those who were joining the fleet. Thousands of people from the religious to the commercial, and to An, the crazy, were permitted to sail with the Treasure Fleet. He could not understand why people would put their fates on the line by being on water; it frightened him greatly. His native Gansu province was landlocked and far away from the sea. This had been going on for the last few expeditions and it was no different now. The other group were the regular people who entered the city for various sundry reasons. It made no difference, everyone had to be checked. Yesterday, the governor’s office sent someone to plead with him, claiming that at this rate, those who were supposed to sail with the fleet would never be able to make it on time. An was put on the spot because he could not say what he was looking for exactly. All he said was Ji ordered it, and if the civil servants had a problem with it, they could take it up with the Head of Internal security when he returned. A stronger governor would have overridden An, but he knew the city governor was a weak man, and thus he ignored the governor’s pleas.
He drummed his fingers with frustration on the rail as he looked down on the flood of people and wondered how tomorrow would be. Then from a distance, he noticed motion; two riders were coming at a great speed overtaking the long trail of people. One of their heads gleamed under the sun. Ji Gang. The commander has returned. An sighed a relief. He could hand over the tedious chore of dealing with the governor to him. An heard that Zheng He could dock anytime. Perhaps even now, the grand admiral was entering the city. The governor, in a bid to twist An’s arm, said that the eunuch would not be pleased if he heard that the Eastern Depot was delaying the loading of his ships. He did not care about what the governor thought, but dealing with Zheng He was another matter all together. Zheng would not be intimidated and An was in no position to defy the grand admiral. Ji Gang approached the city gate and the crowd gave way to the riders who showed no intention of slowing. When Ji looked up, An raised a hand in greeting to his commander; it was also to show that he was on duty at his post. He was a civil servant after all.
“Open the gates!”
The sentries looked up and An confirmed his instruction to open the gates by waving his hands. Even the guards were jittery with the Eastern Depot looking over their shoulders. They pushed away those people closest to the gates, whose turn to enter the gate was denied, and the two men rode in. There were loud protests, but of course they were ignored. After they tied their steeds, they went up to the agent and got an update. Yong Ju, who saw them ride in with An, turned and said, “Where’s Li Wei?” An shrugged his shoulders without looking at the younger man. In their line of work, anything was possible. There could be many reasons why Li did not return with Ji and Lu.
From a distance and lost in the anonymity of the snaking queue, Zhao saw the horsemen ride into the city. He looked back at his compatriots and they returned his gaze quietly. They saw who it was. Zhao
turned back to observe. The line hardly moved now. After the bald man entered the gates, the door was shut for a while, and now it opened again and the long queue started to crawl again like a millipede. Zhao calculated it would be sundown by the time they were anywhere near the gate; entrance would be denied after dark and they would have to camp outside the city to wait for the door to open the next morning. It might be better that way. Zhao felt completely lost: how could he enter a city he had never seen before with his enemy looking down directly at him? At least, he had the night to think about this. Perhaps, when the sun was down he would reconnoitre the city gates and find a way in. Coming so far already, he felt the anxiety of failure overwhelm him. The dark clouds of doubt filled his mind as he weighed the number of lives that depended on him.
SIXTY SEVEN
The same day Ji arrived in Quanzhou, Zheng He emerged from his office on the bridge and came onto the deck. The officer on the deck called the crew to attention. Heads remained bowed until the admiral signalled for them to relax. Ahead in the distance, slightly covered by the spring mist, he could make out the familiar landscape of Quanzhou harbour. The blue waters reflecting great depth was slowly turning turquoise as the vessel entered shallower waters. On his right, Zheng He saw the Bay of Quanzhou as his flagship approached land. The Treasure Fleet would sail upriver and dock at the great sheltered harbour. For the next three days, there would be a great frenzy of activity as goods and people were loaded up the ships. Great stores of Pu’er tea, caked and preserved for years for this event; and blue-white porcelain from the famous kilns in Fujian, famed for their exquisiteness, would be loaded in bulk. The porcelain was fired under great temperature until the surface shined and then hand-painted. Tonnes of grain, dried meat, fish and vegetables would also be loaded for the great journey ahead. Zheng He could not help but wonder if his adjutants attached to the governor had been able to do their job. He did not want to delay. He silently wished them to make sure that everything was ready and there would be no bureaucratic snafu waiting for him to unravel when he got ashore. He was too seasoned to expect a smooth operation when it dealt with the government machinery, but at least he hoped it would not be too much of a cock-up. Sometimes he wondered why a small problem could be multiplied by bureaucratic pigheadedness until it required a grand admiral to intervene and resolve. Bureaucrats, he reminded himself, rate their performance on how well they cover their backsides and not by how much work got done. On the battle field or on the high seas, these kind of people would be dead quite quickly. Efficiency is a bad word to these officials; if things really ran, they would be out of jobs. He smiled at the thought and wished he could send the battalion of these fools into the high seas to face the sea goddess’ wrath. That would be some sight!