The Emperor's Prey

by Jeremy Han

  Ji waved his hand, “No, no, the Grand Admiral is above board. But we are investigating the actions of his staff. Seems like there are some rogue elements within the Admiral’s vast command who are enemies of the Yong Le emperor.”

  “Enemies of the Son of Heaven?” The governor sighed a relief inwardly; they were not talking about his son. That useless brat could not even threaten a pigeon.

  “Yes. Needless to say, I cannot review the details. All I need is your cooperation. My men will need to speak to various members of your staff and the different commands under you. Will you pass the word?”

  “Of course I will, we all serve his Majesty.”

  “Excellent. Now I have some questions for you. If you will kindly answer them...”

  The governor nodded his head.

  “The Grand Admiral visited your city just before the winter closed the ports. What was his purpose of visit?”

  “He came with his staff to finalise the arrangements for his fleet. There is much to do. Until now, we are still gathering the massive amounts of goods that will be brought south.”

  Ji remembered the piled bales of linen, crates of porcelain and other products that lined the way to the port. The goods were protected by an armed guard as these were the property of the emperor. Zheng He would be taking them south as gifts to the savages, who will be awed by the generosity and kindness of the Son of Heaven and would reciprocate with their eternal gratitude and fealty.

  “Where did he spend most of his time?”

  “At my office.”

  “That’s all? He did not spend any time at any places of leisure?”

  “Leisure?” The governor laughed with his head tilted back. “He is a eunuch! Moreover, he is a Muslim. He does not drink or eat pork. He only prays.”

  “Pray? Where?”

  “In our city, there is an Islamic temple. He went there to pray.”

  “And you were with him?”

  “Oh no! Non-Muslims were not allowed to enter. My men chased away the congregation so that our admiral could have the place to himself.”

  “Oh? He was alone inside? Did he speak to anyone?”

  “His god I suppose.” The governor started to look bored. He could not see where Ji was going with this.

  “Did anyone enter while he was there?”

  “No. Not even the religious leaders were allowed to enter. The Admiral asked to be alone. The temple was surrounded by my soldiers, and guards ringed the inner hall.”

  “Tomorrow, my men will speak to the people who worked with the Admiral’s staff. And I will need a guide to take me around your city.”

  “Of course Commander. Everything will be done as you wish.” The governor was glad to cooperate since it was clear the investigation was not into his affairs. He prided himself for always being a survivor; that meant that he knew where the wind blew. Since it was not blowing in his direction, he must fan it to ensure it stayed that way.

  FIFTY EIGHT

  Ji wandered around the city, getting a feel of the place. Commerce energised the city and made it buzz. The active economy drew people from various places. Ji was amazed at the colourful diversity of the ethnic groups. There were men in turbans, men with hair uncovered - all sorts of people. But Ji was focused; after a brief orientation of the city, he headed for the Great Mosque. The Great Mosque, more commonly known as Qingjing Si, ‘The temple of Solitude’, was built during the 10th century. It was an awe-inspiring edifice that was the heart of the Muslim community in the city. He stood before the building and admired the alien architecture then he stepped into the compound of the mosque. The sound shocked him at first. He thought it was directed at him as it wailed when his foot crossed the threshold. Then he realised the soulful cry was the call to prayer. He looked up and saw the imam standing at the tower facing west, calling the faithful to pray. The man half-sang, half-cried, in its own way melodious and touching. Ji stood there uncertain, caught off guard even as the religious leader continued in a language foreign to him. He composed himself and strode confidently into the grand hall of the mosque.

  As he walked, he observed the Arabic script adorning the walls; the flowing words seemed to follow him. Although he could not understand it, he was sure they were religious texts. He passed by the tablet carved with the orders of Yong Le decreeing his protection of the mosque laid down in 1407. Ji was surprised to see that. That plaque made a world of difference to how he would treat the people here. He strode through a cultural timeline as he passed the newer halls designed in the Chinese way until he stood at the main hall, which was Syrian. He could not help but be amazed at the way the dome raced upward in an attempt to touch heaven and communicate with Allah. As he gazed upward, lost in admiration, he did not notice the presence of another person entering the chamber.

  “Can I help you Sir?” The man spoke to him politely. He was dressed in flowing white robe, and he wore a white cap. His lined face was covered with a white matching beard.

  “Sorry. I did not see you.” Ji Gang replied.

  “A northerner?” The man asked him with a kind smile.

  “Yes. I come from the north.” Ji knew his accent betrayed his origins. This old man was sharp. “I am here on business. And then I noticed this unique building, that’s why I came in to take a look. What building is this?” As Ji spoke, he noticed some uniqueness in the man’s features: he was not Han. He had the sharper features of someone from the north western tribes where the people were Muslims – Uighur, most probably.

  “In the north there are Qingzhen temples too. Perhaps you have not visited one before. Which means, Sir, you are not a believer.”

  The last statement seemed conclusive, ending the conversation and welcome although the man’s gentle features still radiated kindness. He was not chasing Ji away based on a lack of hospitality but this place, this sanctum was only for the believers. It was the way things were.

  “No, I am not religious.” Ji replied.

  The old man nodded his head sagely before saying to him gently, like a father to a son who was loved by not favoured.

  “God is great. And he is all deserving of your worship. But since you are not a believer, you are not allowed to remain here.”

  “Why not?” Ji’s anger rose. He was not used to being chased away, albeit politely.

  “Because this is a holy place. Only believers in the one true god will be allowed to come in. The rest are unclean.”

  Ji’s burning anger was put out by a flash of cold logic like water on flames. Suddenly it became clear. Only believers could enter this sanctuary. The authorities, even the Dong Chang, had to respect the edict of protection given by the emperor to safeguard the sanctity of this place. If it was an edict by the emperors of previous dynasties, Ji would have disregarded it and forced the man to reveal what he knew. He had no qualms about using violence in a holy place, but there would be no repercussions against this priest as he stood under the protection of the Son of Heaven. And this place would be a safe place for anyone, especially one hiding from the long tentacles of the secret service. He saw it now. He could see why Zheng He came to pray here. The reasons were more than spiritual. This was a place where Zheng He could come undisturbed. Here he could ensure that those he wanted to hide would remain hidden because no one would dare to search this place.

  He mustered a polite smile, turned and walked out of the mosque, his mind racing ahead, a strategy forming. He wandered around the crowded city thinking of what to do next. He could invoke the authority the emperor gave him for this mission, which meant that he could do anything he wanted despite the royal protection. He could arrest all the priests at the Qingjing Si and replace them with his own agents masquerading as the religious men, but this would lead to an outrage that even he could not contain. Word would spread among the Islamic community that the priests were fake. Riots would start, and his trap would blow up in his own face. No, it was better to be subtle. Let them walk into a snare without suspicions. Zheng He was a Muslim.
He had his ears to the ground among the community here. Such a clumsy attempt by Ji would be easily detected by a man as shrewd as the admiral.

  Back at his base, as the candle flickered against a draught, Ji Gang listened to his men’s reports. They had spent the last few days investigating Zheng’s visit to Quanzhou. He listened to his prodigy, Yong report,

  “We interviewed the staff officers who worked with Zheng He, as well as those servants who served them. We tried to put together as complete a picture as we can by cross-referencing what the governor’s staff told us, and to fill in whatever gaps there were by listening to the different witnesses. It is true that Zheng He came with his bodyguard, a man named Khun Sa. Khun was a native of Yunnan like Zheng. Zheng had handpicked him because he felt he could trust a fellow Muslim and countryman more than he could trust anyone else.”

  Ji remarked, “Such deep distrust, despite the favour from the emperor. Or do you think that there is something more than that. For eunuchs, one could never tell.” The others laughed at Ji’s insult. He paused to take in the information, allowing it to filter through the processing brain cells before it converted to memory. “Go on.”

  “The officers reported that Khun followed Zheng everywhere he went. Even into the great mosque.”

  “Of course, Khun was a Muslim as well.” Ji remarked.

  “There wasn’t any occasion where Zheng did not have Khun with him. Except...”

  “Except?”

  “Except the last day when Zheng He departed from Quanzhou. Khun was not seen anywhere. He did not board the Admiral’s ship and our sources in Suzhou did not see the bodyguard arrive with Zheng. And subsequently, our spies there reported that they had not seen Khun since. It was as though the man disappeared.”

  “He disappeared?” Ji exclaimed. A fog was lifting in his mind. A picture was emerging but he could not see it yet. The form was vague, but it was there. It was real.

  “Yes Lord. I had a portrait of him done by the artists based on five different people’s description of the man.” Yong took out a piece of folded paper and handed it to Ji. Ji opened it and stared. He had no impression of the face that stared at him. After absorbing the details like a sponge, he handed it to Li. Li Wei’s eyes went wide.

  “The man rowing the boat!”

  Ji looked at him quizzically. “Lord, remember the ambush we sprung on the river. This man roared the boat with the fugitives!”

  Lu confirmed it. “Yes Lord. There is no mistake. This is the man. But he is dead. He was shot by our archers as they sailed away.”

  Ji nodded his head as he went silent. The fog has cleared and metaphysical sunlight pierced the fog. “Gentlemen. This is obvious.” Ji lectured in a booming voice. Vitality radiated from him as his confidence soared.

  “The fugitives are coming to Quanzhou. Consider these three reasons: the way to safety from the hanging temple is by water. This man Khun was a marine. He was Zheng’s confidante; a man who would betray the emperor for Zheng. A childhood friend no less and chief bodyguard; who else would Zheng entrust a secret that is even dearer than life?” he took a drink and continued,

  “And I found something interesting too. The mosque that Zheng He went to pray is protected by the edict of Yong Le. Only Muslims can enter the inner halls. The crafty admiral had seen this and knew that the only place safe for the fugitives was the mosque. That is the only place that the Dong Chang would not raid, not if a direct word of Yong Le guarantees the peace of the temple. And only a Muslim could enter! Khun could have entered because he was a Muslim. He could have hidden them there and we could never reach them.”

  “And lastly,” he pointed at their map, drawing an imaginary line with his thick fingers.

  “Suzhou is too far and too dangerous to reach because of the river patrols. We could have clamped the artery with an imperial order. The safer way,” he indicated,

  “is through the under-governed provinces of Yunnan or Guizhou, where minority tribes hold sway and Ming control is weak. Khun would find much support there and it would be impossible for us to track them through a region that is hostile and alien to us. There, Khun, a local, could make them disappear.” As his fingers traced the path through the huge land mass, he spoke again,

  “and logically, the distance from there to here is shorter than to Suzhou. Suzhou is heavily guarded and spied, the admiral knows that. And he would not be so stupid to bring them so close to himself. And once the fleet set sails, it would not stop until it reaches Quangzhou where the masses of people and goods would hide the fugitives in plain sight. I believe it would be Quanzhou, where the rebels will be coming to, if they are not here already.”

  The men silently digested this deduction. They could find no flaw in it. If they had, they were allowed to raise it. But no one raised anything. It was a sign that they agreed with his logic. Detective work was mostly logical but seldom one hundred percent. It was the best they had for now. Then Ma Hun spoke,

  “Lord, why don’t we arrest the Grand Admiral immediately?” he said with gusto, “To kill a snake, crush the head.” Bravado filled him as he hoped to impress the commander with his direct, no-nonsense approach. His crude approach was like a peasant talking about how to breed cows among a group of refined poets.

  “Based on what? Do you have any evidence that he is a traitor? Do you know who you are dealing with, boy? You are not dealing with a dog but a tiger – a tiger with the emperor’s favour. Listen carefully, even I do not move against someone who controls the navy and whom the emperor listens to unless I have a live confession.”

  Ma persisted. He wanted to show them that he was a man of action. “But Lord, we have enough evidence to prove the Admiral sent Khun.”

  “You fool!” Ji roared. He lost patience with Ma, who could not see the obvious danger in snaring a tiger. “Unless you can get Khun’s corpse to talk and incriminate the Admiral, you have nothing!”

  “But the word of the Eastern Depot is law!” Ma added, still trying to salvage his failed attempt to impress the boss.

  An Deli took over in rebuking the young upstart, “Shut your mouth boy. Do you think the Admiral rose to his rank by being a fool like you? He is the Grand Admiral of the Ming and the favourite of the emperor. He would have thought of how to deal with a direct accusation. You do not kill a tiger by running straight at it, do you? Use your damn brains!”

  Ma glared at An but kept his silence because he knew no one was with him: everyone thought his idea was stupid. A great redness spread over his face and he did not speak again.

  Ji looked around at the men. It was time. “Ma Hun. You will stay in Quanzhou and watch the mosque. You will ensure that no one enters or leaves it without your knowledge. If you fail, I will personally kill you.” Ji felt that the young agent’s showmanship was getting tiring.

  “An Deli, watch your partner and make sure he doesn’t screw up. The mosque, I feel, is the key. Yong, you will stay with An and take your orders from him. He is a good man to learn investigation from.” Yong dipped his head low.

  “Li and Lu, you will accompany me. We will sweep northwest and see what we can rattle in the two wild provinces.

  FIFTY NINE

  Yula was confused. She did not usually feel like that. She did not know what was happening to her. She was alone today. She wanted solitude so she could think and figure out what her body was telling her. She told Long Wu to carry on with the training as she went into the woods alone. She took a slow walk. She picked up a branch and started to beat the plants along the way absentmindedly, the way she did when she was a girl. Those carefree days were so long ago.

  Lately she felt her moods changing. Sometimes she was happy for no reason, sometimes she felt angry and depressive. She had lashed out a few times at her lover and left him looking stunned and confused. He walked away to give her space while she asked herself silently what was wrong with her? She also felt sickly sometimes, especially in the mornings. She woke up and did not want to eat anything and when Long
Wu asked her to eat, she got irritated. But some days she was fine, except that she realised she ate more than normal. She got hungry easily. She would find herself hoping for a snack or a meal even when it was not the time for that. What was the problem with her? She was used to privations and never developed the taste for snacking.

  However, it was her instincts that told her that something was not the same as before. She could not explain a ‘magical’ feeling inside her. She tried to figure what it was but this was completely new to her. Finally, she realised she was not going to find the answer herself. So she returned to the town and found the old lady that they met the day they came to this town. She was sitting at the cooking area by a pot placed over a fire. Something boiled inside the blackened pot and smoke rose from it. It smelled good.

  “Old lady, can I ask you something?” She asked the matron as she was paring some turnips. The old lady threw some of it into the pot and turned to Yula with a smile.