Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 4-7 2019 | Page 161

“Zheng He.” The soldier said with pride hinted in his voice.
Arjun stared at him with wide eyes. “What?”
The soldier repeated himself although this time; there was a slight hint of annoyance laced in his voice. “Zheng
He.”
Arjun stared at the soldier for a split second before he spluttered out, “Jeng Huh?”
The soldier finally looked down at Arjun before nodding his head. The soldier turned around and knocked on
the door with what seemed to be some sort of password. As soon, as the soldier’s fist lifted itself from the door, the
massive piece of wood slowly slid open to a small room with a desk in the middle. The soldier moved aside and
beckoned Arjun to step forward.
He cautiously stepped into what seemed to be the strategy room. From the letters that scattered all over the desk
to a huge map of the world that covered the entire left wall. The place gave an aura of importance or perhaps, it was the
person standing behind the desk that gave off that impressive aura.
The man was wearing armour. Unlike the soldier that had led him here, the armour had gold laced all over the
armour. Arjun who had no idea who the soldier in front of him was, decided to be safe and say, “Jeng Huh.”
Arjun then realized, he had no idea what the two words meant and he silently prayed he hadn’t said anything
terrible. The man in front of him stared apprehensively as if he didn’t know what to do with him. Arjun quickly got
down on his knees and pressed his forehead to the ground in front of him. The fear of being trapped in a place that he
didn’t know had started to kick in and was taking over his control.
Levelheaded mind. Arjun scolded himself quickly for forgetting the rule so rapidly. Suddenly, he was pulled up
onto his feet and dragged off. As the doors closed in front of his face, he managed to catch a glimpse of the man in gold
smirking. What was going on?
That was then the phrase that was repeated in his head for the next few months. They hadn’t thrown him in a
cell, but instead a tiny room with a small bed and a desk that was less than a meter apart. In the next few days, he had
also come to realise he was now Zheng He’s personal assistant of sorts. Even though there were days where Zheng
would get frustrated with Arjun’s lack of understanding of the Chinese language, most of it was smooth sailing. At least,
that was what Arjun had told himself.
The short voyage from India was nearly coming to an end as they finally arrived at Sumatra. As Zheng led his
men off the boat onto land, Arjun decided between himself that he was going to stick to Zheng and Li like the glue
sticking the smaller boats together. As they rushed forward in quick strides towards the city.
The first thing Arjun noticed were the villagers, working hard in the fields. The plantations were long and
narrow, stretching over miles and miles of land until it faded off into the distance. The clear, blue water of the never-
ending river flowed into the sea, as children played near the riverbanks. The tall trees that hovered over them were
giving people shade as they walked along the path towards the centre of the city. The blue sky that was reflections of
the sea made Arjun feel warm inside, feeling that today, the trade was going to be a good one.
When they arrived at what appeared to be the king’s home, the soldiers had stopped right as Zheng took his first
steps onto the king’s stairs. Arjun realized this and started to pull back, but Li grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and
dragged him up the stairs behind Zheng. Li swiftly took a spear and forced it into Arjun’s hand and said, “Na.”
Arjun, who had started to learn the meanings behind certain sounds that the Chinese made, realized that Li was
trying to force him to take the weapon. Arjun immediately started to protest but a glare from Li stopped all sounds
coming out from his mouth. They walked through the door to face the intense glare of the Sumatran King.
Discussions began between the Sumatran King and Zheng, with some inputs from other people in the room.
During this time, Arjun had kept his head down. He had been trying to press down the anxiety of being in the room by
gripping onto the spear as tightly as he could.