After a polite pause to enjoy our tea, Dr. Lao-Hong asked after my own background. I gave him a modest biographical sketch, as well as my academic credentials and present position. Dr. Lao-Hong seemed somewhat impressed, and said that he had attended Harvard University for three years before being summoned west at the request of his uncles who were officers of the Three Corporations. Unlike them, Dr. Lao-Hong had been born and educated in America. His knowledge of Western traditions and business practices were thought to be of considerable value to his uncles’ extensive commercial interests.
When all the polite amenities had been dispensed with, Dr. Lao-Hong asked me to repeat what I had said to Master Ah Chung on my previous visit. Again I passed over the folio of rubbings and photographs and reiterated all I had to say about O’Flynn, his discoveries, and the subsequent charges of arson that had been laid against him.
Dr. Lao-Hong’s examination of the material seemed just as cursory and disinterested as Master Ah Chung’s had been, and he soon passed the folio back to me. Something about their lack of real interest aroused my suspicion, which in turn, I confess, inspired a twinge of tension if not outright anxiety.
Dr. Lao-Hong turned to Master Ah Chung and spoke in simple Cantonese. After a contemplative pause, Master Ah Chung nodded thoughtfully and rose from his seat, gesturing for me to follow. Dr. Lao-Hong smiled at me and stood to follow as well. I was escorted to the back of the hall, where a curtained alcove stood. On my first visit, I had noticed the embroidered silk curtain and had assumed that it formed a partition to a back room.
As the three of us stood before the curtain, Dr. Lao-Hong spoke to me in a lowered voice that denoted either reverence or a fear of being overheard. “I believe, Professor Gilbert, that you may have misjudged Mr. O’Flynn. But then, there would be no way for you to know the truth of the situation. We Chinese may have our failings, like all the rest of humanity, but one of the things we are brilliant at is keeping secrets. It has proven our salvation throughout history.” The doctor smiled knowingly. “If we had not, then gunpowder, the compass, printing, and paper money would have found their way to the West three hundred years before they did. Can you imagine the bloody chaos that would have ensued if Charlemagne, for instance, had been able to bring cannons to bear upon his enemies? On the other hand, some secrets, my dear Professor Gilbert, are so powerful that they inspire disbelief no matter how loudly you proclaim them to the world. And we are faced here with just such a secret. So you see, it was Mr. O’Flynn who helped our efforts to preserve it. For we are sure that knowledge of the information you recorded could only hurt our position here in California and elsewhere. Some things are better left unspoken if one is to survive the slings and arrows of ignorant incredulity as well as racial and cultural prejudice.”
Dr. Lao-Hong turned to Master Ah Chung and nodded. That gentleman drew back the curtain to reveal not a doorway, but an alcove housing what I took to be a shrine. I had seen others like it before. Every village had a shrine dedicated to prosperity, peace, and domestic felicity. Almost every house had smaller but similar shrines dedicated to household deities and ancestors. But this shrine was slightly different insofar as, at its center, there was a shallow, two-door wooden cabinet covered in ornate Chinese calligraphy. I noticed that the cabinet was secured with a small brass lock. Dr. Lao-Hong must have noticed my bewilderment, for he nodded again to Master Ah Chung, who in turn lit tapers on either side of the altar, clapped twice ceremonially, and unlocked the cabinet. Then he opened both doors and stood aside so I could get a better view of its contents. The astonishment on my face must have been palpable, for there in the muted light of the tapers I saw the stone tablet and the jade seal. The artifacts had obviously been meticulously cleaned and polished so that they shimmered like jewels in the candlelight. I well remember being at a loss, for I attempted a response that came out as a stutter.
“But . . . but . . . but how did you come by these artifacts, Doctor? Mr. O’Flynn expressly told me that he was going to hide the stone and the seal where no one could find them until he was ready to disclose the location.”
Dr. Lao-Hong smiled once more and nodded. “And so he did, Professor Gilbert. He brought them to Master Ah Chung for safekeeping, and I assure you he was handsomely rewarded for his fidelity. You see, Mr. O’Flynn is respected by our community, and accepted into our homes as a faithful friend.”
I was stunned. “But he was the one who was seen setting the fire that destroyed the whole village. How can you count such a villain as a friend? Besides, what’s so significant about these artifacts that they should inspire such clandestine dealings? Surely they can do no harm in and of themselves.”
Dr. Lao-Hong took on a contemplative expression, as though weighing his alternatives. “I hope you will forgive the impertinence, Professor, but you are quite wrong. But to satisfy your justifiable curiosity, I shall answer your second question first, if that’s agreeable.”
“Any explanation would be most appreciated, Doctor. I fell into these present circumstances quite by accident, and would be most grateful for any information that would set my mind at rest.”
The doctor nodded. “Well, sir, under the reign of the third Ming emperor, Zhu Di, a great fleet of massive ships was commissioned to explore the known world and bring back ambassadors from those far lands to serve the emperor’s court. Now, you must understand that many of these great ships were over four hundred and eighty feet long, the largest sailing ships in the world at the time, and were powered by as many as twelve sail-crowded masts, and crewed by thousands of sailors, soldiers, and diplomats. The grand admiral of this tremendous expedition, which consisted of over two hundred and fifty vessels of every variety, was the renowned Zheng He, a man of remarkable talents and industry. Zheng He accepted the commission and set about accomplishing his master’s designs. At some point during that extended journey, Admiral Zheng He divided his fleet into separate squadrons and sent one of his vice admirals, Zhou Man, to explore the lands in the far eastern Pacific. To that end, and as far as we can tell, he sailed south to north along the coasts of the Americas and possibly set up small exploratory enclaves along the way.
“At some time during that journey, approximately June 1422 by your Western calendar, Admiral Zhou Man’s squadron anchored in Monterey Bay. We now believe, evidenced by the inscriptions on the stone tablet, that he must have landed and set up camp at a place that is presently known to you as Cypress Point. Indeed, you might like to know in passing that the Monterey cypress trees that the locals are so proud of are in fact not indigenous to this place, but instead come from the coasts of southern China. It has long been the custom of Chinese sailors to plant trees native only to China in places where they could be seen as recognizable landmarks for those who followed. The stone tablet records just such an endeavor. The plaque was then buried, along with the seal, under the cypress saplings to mark the importance of the place as one that owed its allegiance to the benevolence of Emperor Zhu Di.”
To say the least, I was enthralled and astounded by all I was hearing. “But, Doctor,” I said, “how can you be so sure of these facts? As far as I know, there isn’t the least mention of such an occurrence in local Indian traditions.”
“I’m well aware of that, Professor. The jade seal belongs to Admiral Zhou Man. It affirms his rank and authority and carries his personal chop. And who is to say whether some Chinese sailors left on these shores did not intermarry with the local inhabitants? You must admit that the indigenous Indian populations along the coast of California look a great deal more Chinese than they do Spanish. Wouldn’t you agree?”
That interesting fact had never really occurred to me, and in lieu of a pointed response I just nodded. Then a question popped into my head. “But if that were indeed the case, Doctor, why keep such an important piece of historical information secret? These revelations could change our whole view of history. As a teacher and scholar, I could no more suppress such information than I could suppress a newly proved truth about science.”
