Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction Group 2 - 2 | Page 44

It is over for Zheng He. This King Alakesvara they spoke of strikes terror in the hearts of the Ceylonese.
The unsuspecting Admiral will be marooned and erased from history forever. At least I have this logbook I’d
discreetly pocketed. At least someone will uncover the true story someday.
1411, February ?
6.927079, 79.861244
The days wear on so reluctantly even a snail can outrun it easily. I have been holding my wretched breath
ever since I’d heard Zheng He leave. To secure diplomatic ties and whatnot, Wang insisted he must leave
and fed Zheng He a load of lies. Nobody was too sure. Zheng He tramped off anyway.
1411, February 27th
6.927079, 79.861244
I was pacing the room when a bone-rattling BOOM! The floor shook. I was thrown off my feet into a
corner where I violently bashed my head. Fireworks exploded in my brain.
That’s when I heard the army. Like a stampeding herd of buffalo, footsteps thundered overhead. Battle cries
in a tongue-twisting language echoed in my drumming ears. Suddenly, like a guardian angel from the
heavens, a filthy boot knocked the flimsy door open.
“Hey, you I to free?” The man demanded in broken Mandarin. I nodded vigorously. What else could I do?
He looked me over with piercing onyx eyes. “You come.” Freedom! Fresh air! The soldier probably had
the wrong guy, but here was my chance. I obediently tailed him.
“Tai, Tai. Thought you could sneak away, huh? Well, you won’t escape me again.” The scent of
gunpowder. A gun cocking. My head swivelling. A stone striking me, hard, on my temple. The world
going dark.
When I came to, I was back in the prison of my nightmares. I blindly groped around for my logbook, but
with no avail. It had tumbled out when I was blacked out. Then again, for the second time today, a filthy
boot knocked the flimsy door open. Except it wasn’t a tanned, linguistically challenged young man who
barged in. It was Zheng He himself.
“Admiral! Admiral sir?” I blabbered, forgetting how to speak.
“Hello, young lad. I just wanted to return this to you,” he boomed, handing me my tattered logbook. “But
first, would you be so kind to let me flip through?”
“O-of course, s-sir.” I stammered as he skimmed through pages.
He smiled momentarily. It must have been my recounts of his courageous voyages. But suddenly his face
contorted into horror and he stormed off without another word. He returned with Wang in tow. “Wang,
you will stay here locked up. Don’t even think about tricking me ever again.”
Needless to say, we arrived home quite safe and sound.
Exhibit 87: Tai Sun’s logbook detailing the events of the third voyage of the Ming Treasure Fleet. For more
information about Zheng He, see Exhibits 100 ~ 103. - The National Gallery of Exploration.
Translated from Chinese to English by Jackie Lee.