Lady Yee revealed that the poor man had been struck by a falling yardarm when outward-bound from Canton. He might have heeded the bosun’s warning in time if he hadn’t been under the influence of opium. She confided that he had always shown a preference for opium over women.
The hostess rang a little table chime, and in an instant her cook, now dressed in his finest and sporting a grin that featured a fine gold incisor tooth, entered with a covered silver platter. After placing it proudly before Lady Yee, he lifted the silver dome to reveal a phalanx of fried baby squid stuffed with sweet Chinese sausage, grated ginger, and chopped wild mushrooms. They were presented on a bed of steamed rice decorated with cunningly sculpted vegetables that made the whole presentation look like an exotic seascape.
The doctor was truly impressed, and it took a few moments for him to find the appropriate compliments worthy of the cook’s care and artistry. Lady Yee took no notice at all and simply waved her cook back to his kitchen. However, the doctor caught the cook’s eye before he left and made a slight formal bow of the head in recognition and appreciation. The cook’s grin suddenly broadened, and he bowed his head in return for the kind acknowledgment.
With thanks for his gift of the night before, Lady Yee served her guest with her own hands, which was in itself a great mark of honor. His hostess then bemoaned the fact that she would not be present to bid her guest farewell the following morning. At once Dr. Lao-Hong wondered how she knew he would be leaving at all, much less the following morning. He didn’t even know his own time of departure, particularly since he expected no word from Master Ah Chung for quite some time.
To alter the subject for a moment, Dr. Lao-Hong asked how Lady Yee wished to be recompensed for her hospitality. He then smiled and said that he would most assuredly secure the debt in silver if she wished.
Lady Yee at once assumed the pose of one slightly offended. She proudly declared that she never had, and never would, accept remuneration for her hospitality. It was a matter of family honor. However, if her esteemed guest wished to show his appreciation, he might reward her servants; this she would not take amiss. The doctor happily agreed to her terms and praised her munificence and patrician hospitality.
In turn, Lady Yee said that if the doctor’s departure was delayed for any reason, he should remain her honored guest for as long as he required; her servants would see to all his needs upon pain of her darkest displeasure, which the doctor readily assumed was not a viable option for any of them.
Lady Yee departed soon after lunch, and Dr. Lao-Hong, finding he had time on his hands, decided to take a long walk to clear his head. Like everyone else with nowhere in particular to go, he gravitated toward the bay and the nests of activity that gathered along its shore. A steady breeze blew in off the water, carrying occasional hints of those labors. As he drew closer to the shore, the bracing fragrance of desiccating squid and seaweed became subtly intermingled with the damp tang of drying nets and the firmly domestic aromas of peasant cooking. In the distance, sails and steam moved commerce here and there, while smaller fishing boats rose and sank on the swells like resting seagulls.
The doctor’s attention was soon drawn to the fishermen working on their boats. Other people mended nets or strung them up to dry, while the older, more experienced men sorted the morning catch for various markets. Female relations orbited almost everywhere and assisted in many aspects of these labors. However, at the first opportunity they migrated to the sorting boxes and deftly chose, within reason, the freshest morsels for their own kitchens. Family first, markets second, in all things.
The encompassing atmosphere of harmony and industry moved the doctor to sincerely hope the village elders might see their way toward an enlightened solution to their mutual dilemma, though in his heart he feared that he might be grasping at smoke rings. He could well understand how the elders might take a stand on principle. After all, honor is a stubborn and inflexible mistress, and often driven by bruised vanity. But the doctor also knew the call to honor had often transformed a forlorn hope into a real and moral victory, but only in the off chance that one outwitted and survived one’s adversaries. It had been done before, of course, but not by simple fishermen with little or no understanding of the intricate machinations that might be brought to bear on their refusal to comply with the wishes of the Three Corporations. But either way, he was confident that he had done his best to help all concerned. Now it was up to the village elders to help themselves.
With that in mind, the doctor returned to Lady Yee’s house in the late afternoon and went up to his rooms to pack. He would leave in the morning and take the six fifteen train north. It would be a long day in the coaches, but more than worth the effort and discomfort knowing that Mui Choi and the children would be waiting to welcome him home.
Dr. Lao-Hong had no idea how he was going to explain his failure to his uncles, but at least he’d have plenty of time on the train to think of something viable, if not altogether truthful. Whichever way the coin fell, his biggest concern remained. What would the Three Corporations do to save their collective reputations in the face of a polite but adamant refusal to cooperate with their wishes? The doctor had no desire to see anyone hurt or humiliated, but his own influence in the matter was negligible at best. For all intents and purposes, his role in the affair would end with his report of failure. And to that end he now applied himself.
After being served tea, Dr. Lao-Hong retired to Lady Yee’s magnificent garden, where he sat in the afternoon’s warmth and wrote pertinent notes in his business journal. With these he hoped to flesh out a report that might ameliorate the circumstances somewhat. Grasping at straws, Dr. Lao-Hong hoped that his uncles might appreciate the depth of commitment expressed by the village elders; perhaps then they might see their way clear to forgive their response, and let the matter drop out of sight. He didn’t really hold out much hope for this eventuality, but he would do what he could to save face for all concerned, even if it meant appealing to the highest authority, which in this case meant the chairman of the Three Corporations, Grand Master Shu Ling Woo. The doctor had never spoken to this venerable gentleman. In fact, he’d seen him only twice in his life, but the doctor had heard things that led him to believe the chairman was a man of modesty and compassion. It wasn’t much to go on, he had to admit, but it was better than no alternative at all.
By the time dinner was announced, Dr. Lao-Hong had still heard no word from Master Ah Chung. As the hours passed, the doctor’s withering optimism waned. Before sitting down to his meal, the doctor called on Lady Yee’s houseboy and asked him if he knew Master Ah Chung on sight. When the boy answered in the affirmative, the doctor wrote out a short note explaining that, regardless of the elders’ verdict, he would be taking the morning train back to San Francisco. Then he gave the houseboy a silver dollar and asked him to deliver his message as soon as possible.
An hour after dinner the houseboy returned, saying that he had delivered the doctor’s note, but Master Ah Chung had offered up no response. As far as the doctor was concerned, the signs were hardly propitious. And, sadly, there was nothing further he could do to influence matters one way or another. But since that bird had flown, Dr. Lao-Hong decided to put the matter behind him and concentrate on his situation, which was relatively precarious on its own merits.
By the time the doctor retired to bed, there had still been no word from Master Ah Chung. Dr. Lao-Hong shrugged off his failure and went to sleep early. The next morning, as per his request, the maid woke the doctor with a tray of tea. As soon as he’d finished his packing, he went down to breakfast. After enjoying a light meal, he distributed five small packets of money to Lady Yee’s servants and asked the houseboy to carry his valise down to the station. He would follow on foot shortly.
The houseboy did as requested, but returned twenty seconds later to say that Master Ah Chung was waiting in a buggy to take the doctor to the station. Dr. Lao-Hong’s surprise was palpable, but he kept his emotions in check and went
out to greet his erstwhile host.
Master Ah Chung was standing next to the buggy when the doctor joined him. The master bowed politely, as did the doctor, but just as he was about to ask Master Ah Chung why he hadn’t answered his note, the master smiled broadly and pulled two wax-sealed envelopes from his sleeve and presented them to the doctor. Ah Chung said it had almost taken a full night of sharp deliberation, but knowing that time was of the essence, they had at last come around and agreed to acquiesce to the handsome offer put forward by the Three Corporations. The first envelope was addressed to the venerable uncles of that esteemed company, but the second envelope was marked with two characters only. Translated, it said “Binding Pledge.”
On the way to the depot, Master Ah Chung explained that the second communication was a binding assurance of secrecy, pledged to the doctor, and sworn to with oaths of everlasting fidelity by every elder in the tong. Their names were all affixed to the document, which would mean their heads would roll should the doctor betray their part in the agreement. They knew that this was hardly likely, since it would be the doctor, regardless of his family connection, who would suffer the first axe to fall.
Master Ah Chung went on to say that the letter to the Three Corporations contained three unalterable conditions. First, no exchange would take place until all the promised funds were delivered in cash. Second, the receiving party must show proof that the items in question had been adequately insured against loss or destruction. And third, the elders required that the Three Corporations send a trusted courier to witness the packing of the goods, and to escort the artifacts personally to their destination. For their part, the tong elders would see to it that the goods and the courier were transported by steamer to Santa Cruz, where they could make connections with the coastal mail packet bound for San Francisco. In this way they could avoid using the railroad, which, for obvious social reasons, was no longer really trusted by the Chinese community in Monterey. However, if the Three Corporations chose to complete the trip by rail from Santa Cruz, they would have to bear the responsibility for the security of the artifacts themselves.
Master Ah Chung asked if the uncles would agree to those stipulations. Dr. Lao-Hong thought for a moment, and then said he could see no reason why they shouldn’t, since all necessary documents would have been signed and notarized with the package in question technically in their possession once the exchange had been made. Master Ah Chung sighed in relief.
———
WHEN THEY ARRIVED AT THE depot, the train was already waiting and loading passengers while the engine rhythmically panted steam in anticipation of departure. Dr. Lao-Hong thanked Master Ah Chung for all his efforts, and especially for the excursion out on the bay to watch the fishermen. He said he didn’t know whether he would be coming back with the courier, but he doubted it. He said the rest of the journey was now in their hands. Master Ah Chung understood the meaning of the last remark and heartily thanked the doctor for all his patience, wisdom, and sympathy.
As if on cue, a deputation of three tong elders suddenly appeared. They had come, they said, to wish the doctor a safe journey, and to present him with a small token of their sincere appreciation for all his efforts on their behalf. The senior member present bowed and handed Dr. Lao-Hong a small polished rosewood case secured with a dark blue velvet ribbon. The conductor then called for all passengers to board the train, so the doctor quickly bowed and bid Master Ah Chung and the other tong elders farewell. As he mounted the steps to his carriage, he turned and said he would pray for a successful outcome to their endeavors. Master Ah Chung said they would do likewise for him.
As the train departed the depot and slowly rolled north along the bay, it once again entered a low, dense fog bank that obliterated the landscape in all directions. Dr. Lao-Hong took the opportunity to close his eyes, and within moments he was drifting in a half dream, lost in a thorny miasma of uncomfortable reflections. He realized, and not for the first time, that he had instigated either something very fine and good, or something very calamitous. However, the doctor was fair enough to acknowledge that only the final verdict of history counted for anything. But for now, he felt far too close to the situation to have any accurate perspective at all. The best he could do was to pray sincerely that in the end, history would take the side of the poor villagers who had suffered perennial indifference from all quarters, even from their more successful countrymen. And despite all hazards, they endured and prospered reasonably well, relying solely upon their own skills, courage, faith, and endurance—and all that without the least assistance from their white neighbors.
THE DOCTOR AWOKE FROM HIS daydreams with the bright morning sun flashing off the window glass and into his eyes. The train had moved out of the fog as it climbed away from the coast. Dr. Lao-Hong shaded his eyes and looked down to avoid the glare. He caught sight of the tong elders’ gift resting on the seat next to him. He picked it up, placed it on his lap, and carefully removed the ribbon. When he opened the little chest, what he saw almost took his breath away. There, nestled in a molded bed of plush blue velvet, was one of the most beautiful cup-and-saucer sets he had ever seen. The items were fashioned from flawless, white bone china so thin and delicate that one could almost read print through the translucent glaze. Around the body of the cup and the rim of the saucer, elaborate Chinese characters had been delicately pressed into the damp medium before it had been glazed. Like a watermark, the characters only appeared when light passed through the delicate opalescent glaze. The doctor held up the saucer to the light and read the inscription: “Mankind poses questions for which there are no answers. Without devotion chaos ensues.”
Upon his return, Dr. Lao-Hong attended upon his uncles, who were truly delighted to hear his report. They praised his efforts and rewarded his services with a purse of Mexican gold pesos valued at five hundred dollars. The doctor politely accepted the purse and said he was pleased to be of service on such an important mission.
The hardest aspect of Dr. Lao-Hong’s return home was the fact that he was barred from divulging the slightest detail of the negotiations to Mui Choi. Perhaps one day he would unburden his soul, but he doubted it. The doctor instinctively knew he was now shackled to the consequences of his actions to the grave and beyond.
TEN DAYS LATER HIS UNCLES summoned the doctor once again, and this time he was informed that all the arrangements, both financial and practical, had been set in motion. In accordance with the agreed stipulations, the Three Corporations were going to send their chief clerk, Master Chow Eng-Shu, to supervise the packing and shipping of the goods. But that aside, the doctor was still the only person who had viewed the treasure in some detail, and could justly verify that the items to be packed were the same ones that he had seen. Therefore, it was deemed a necessity that their astute nephew should accompany Master Chow Eng-Shu back to Monterey, make the necessary introductions to the local tong elders, and see that all proper arrangements were set in place. After that, he was free to take the train back to San Francisco at his leisure. His uncles promised that this important task, once accomplished, would be handsomely rewarded.
Dr. Lao-Hong saw no way to avoid this last mission, and so resigned himself to honor his uncles’ wishes, even though it placed him in an awkward position. With all eyes on him, and without the least hesitation, the doctor obediently agreed. Any other response would have been noted with some suspicion.
FOUR DAYS LATER THE DOCTOR and Master Chow Eng-Shu arrived back at the depot in Monterey at five o’clock in the afternoon. Word had been sent ahead, so Master Ah Chung and a delegation of tong elders were at the depot when the train arrived. The doctor was treated with the greatest respect, as was Master Chow Eng-Shu. They were taken to Lady Yee’s house to refresh themselves, share a light meal, and take tea with their hostess. Lady Yee was delighted to see the doctor again so soon, and she promised her esteemed guests that a fine feast would be waiting when they finished the day’s business.
Later, the doctor and his clerk w
ere escorted to the tong hall, where they were reverently shown the altar and Zhou Man’s stone plaque and the jade seal. The plaque had been carefully cleaned and the relief decoration polished so the whole stone reflected a deep brilliance; even the gold inlaid characters twinkled like stars. The great giraffe seal of pink jade was also displayed to advantage. It shimmered to its depths, as though it had been carved and polished only recently. The Imperial power and majesty the jewel implied were tangible for everyone who gazed upon it.
Master Chow Eng-Shu, who was a man of considerable education, was truly impressed with what he saw. He was, unlike the doctor, capable of reading the Chinese inscription in its entirety, which impressed everyone. The text was set down in characters that had been much modified over the centuries. It was therefore difficult to read by those who were not trained as scholars, and even then it would have required some research and study. However, Master Chow Eng-Shu, who was accustomed to reading and evaluating older documents, appeared to have no trouble deciphering the text.
He then closely examined the beautiful jade seal and pronounced it authentic, barring further study. He pointed to a character surmounting the admiral’s personal chop and said that in modern Chinese it might be incorrectly translated as “head of the dragon.” But in fact, in ancient Chinese texts it represented a sign meaning that the bearer was the personal servant of Emperor Zhu Di. Only high-ranking officials of the Imperial Court were allowed, nay required, to include this character surmounting their personal chops.
Dr. Lao-Hong was very impressed with Master Chow Eng-Shu’s scholarship in these matters, but he was also quite relieved when the clerk declared that the artifacts appeared authentic in every detail. It was only then that the doctor realized just why his uncles had assigned Master Chow Eng-Shu to supervise the exchange. If the stones had indeed been forgeries, they would not have passed such close inspection. Simple fishermen hadn’t the skill or scholarship to create such artifacts. Add to that the fact that Zhou Man’s seal was carved from a rare piece of pink jade of such unusual size and purity that one could not but believe that its authenticity was beyond question. The clerk took the doctor aside and, in a low voice, said that the jade seal alone, even if it only had once belonged to a middling court official, would be worth ten times the price offered for the whole lot.
In The Shadow of The Cypress Page 12
