The Temple of Heaven

by Z. Allora

  “One of your brothers?”

  “Yeah.” Jordon huffed out another puff of air—hard.

  Tian Di wasn’t sure what that was about, so he changed the subject. “They’re opening the doors of the museum.”

  “Cool.” Jordon grabbed his arm and pulled him to the short line of yawning tourists.

  After their bags went through the metal detector, they headed inside.

  The art propelled Jordon forward. He stood in front of one of the museum’s treasures, read the English placard, and then said, “This is the Pearl Pillar of the Buddhist Shrine. It’s a thousand years old, and was found in the Ruiguang Pagoda. Stunning. It looks like it’s almost four feet high.”

  “Yeah, about 1.2 meters. The main body is carved in wood.” Tian Di tried to recall what Li had told the band from his guidebook when Indigo insisted Made in China needed a field trip. “If I remember this right, the shrine’s base is octagon-shaped and is supposed to remind us of the eight custodians of Buddhism.”

  “Are you Buddhist?”

  Tian Di shook his head. “No. My grandparents are, though.”

  “Look at this piece. The artistry of the dragons chained and cuffed right at the top is incredible. Look at the personalities of each of the figures, and the eight silver lions. This is mind-boggling if you think about the tools the artists had to create with at the time.” Jordon circled the glass-enclosed relic.

  Tian Di pointed out, “Look at these sections. They’re dripping with gold, silver, pearls, jade, and crystal.”

  Jordon took some pictures with his phone.

  Across the room a dragon plate with one of the talons scratched out caught Jordon’s eye.

  He followed.

  “Why did they wreck the plate?” Jordon’s horror of art harm rang out loud and clear.

  Tian Di remembered this one. “In ancient China, dragon claws represent the classes of people. Three talons were meant for ministers and officials, and during a couple of the dynasties even for commoners, four was designated for nobility, and five was reserved for the emperor. This plate had to have been stolen from the emperor’s court, and then the thief tried to hide their guilt.”

  Jordon’s mouth hung open.

  They spent two hours drifting from treasure to treasure, and Tian Di had never appreciated any museum anywhere more.

  Seeing Jordon happy did things below the waist to Tian Di, while the unexpected euphoria in the region of his heart surprised him. It was even more fulfilling than pleasing his sister.

  Jordon gave him a new view of what he was looking at and discussed the techniques behind some of the creations. It couldn’t be helped; Tian Di stared at Jordon more than any of the other treasures.

  JORDON BEAMED at Tian Di like he was the keeper of magic. “Thank you for taking me to the museum. Where to now?”

  “Since Suzhou is the Venice of the East, we could walk along Shantang Jie. The street snakes along one of the canals and is probably one of the oldest in Suzhou. They recently restored the entire area.”

  “Sounds great.” Jordon had such an easy way about him.

  Tian Di led him to the mouth of the Shantang’s canal.

  “Wow.” Jordon stopped to snap pictures of the weeping willows dripping in the canal. Traditional wooden boats were no longer used to ferry goods along the canal, but tourists looking for a taste of ancient China formed a line to ride the boat.

  Jordon took pictures every few steps, and they meandered over a stone bridge.

  “Shops!” Jordon beelined to an embroidery shop.

  “Suzhou specializes in embroidery.” Tian Di smiled as Jordon touched the stitched mythical animals, birds, and symbols.

  “Here, here. You try. You try.” The shopkeeper abandoned her TV drama to push an embroidered jacket at them.

  Jordon tried the jacket on, but the maroon did nothing for his coloring. He examined the material with a frown. Maybe he recognized it wasn’t silk, but a poly blend that would probably fall apart after three wearings.

  As the shopkeeper fished around for another one, Tian Di whispered, “If you want, later we can go to my tailor and get you a custom jacket. You can even design the embroidery.”

  “Really?”

  Tian Di handed the dismayed shopkeeper back her items. Once they left the shop, he said, “A lot of these shops cater to tourists and aren’t trying to win repeat customers. They may not have the highest quality.”

  Jordon nodded. Tian Di liked that he didn’t condemn the entire country based on a few folks trying to make a bit of yuan.

  Going in and out of the shops with no lag inspired Tian Di. “You seem to like shopping as much as I do.”

  “I love seeing new things. Usually you can tell something about the people by their handicrafts, art, and souvenirs.” His cell buzzed again. “Sorry. Let me text him back.”

  After a few minutes, Tian Di followed Jordon into the government-owned Suzhou No. 1 Silk Factory and Embroidery Store. All the patterns were displayed on the wall, and each was available in bedding and clothing. There was also a room filled with wall hangings.

  The price jumped by a 300 percent markup, though everything was certified authentic and made by local artists.

  Jordon whistled. “No fakes here. Feel this silk.”

  A pretty saleswoman came over to them. “Hello, I’m Kathy. What can I help you find today?”

  “Just looking,” Jordon muttered and slid away. “Tian Di, check this out.”

  Tian Di and the woman followed him into the room of exquisite wall hangings, ranging in size from a postcard to wall murals.

  Jordon’s phone rang. He gave a quick “Sorry” and answered his mobile. “Zack, didn’t you get my texts? I’m fine. I’m at the Silk Factory. Just shopping. Yes, I’ll get lunch. See you later.”

  Kathy whispered in Chinese, “Where is your friend from?”

  “America,” Tian Di answered in English. Before she could offer him a kickback for getting Jordon to buy more, he hurried to Jordon’s side. “That’s gorgeous.”

  Jordon traced his finger over the colorful tail feathers on the wall hanging. “I’ve always loved phoenixes.”

  Tian Di ignored the price tag. “The work is well done.”

  Kathy inserted herself between them. “The artist is a local man from an embroidery family. His family has been embroidering since the Ming Dynasty.”

  “Cool.” Jordon continued searching the walls and stacks of embroideries and pulled out those pieces that required closer inspection.

  Tian Di had a great time watching Jordon. He figured out Jordon admired vivid color mixed with precision. Jordon stayed clear of the primitive embroidery, preferring the refinement Tian Di appreciated.

  Jordon leaned into Tian Di. “Zack said I should ask for a discount. Though the sign says no discounts.”

  “Depending on how much you’re buying, she might give you 5 to 10 percent off.”

  “I guess it doesn’t hurt to ask.” Jordon turned to Kathy, who lingered close by. “If I were to get several pieces, would you be able to do a discount?”

  Kathy pointed to the big sign. “I’m sorry, sir. No discount… unless you were buying at least five pieces.”

  Jordon grinned. “I am.”

  “Then 5 percent.”

  “I’m buying seven smaller pieces, and three wall hangings, so how about 15 percent?”

  Wow. Tian Di was impressed by Jordon’s guts.

  Yuan signs danced in her eyes as she calculated the zeros. “Which ones?”

  Jordon pulled seven pieces from the tops of piles without hesitation. He pointed to the wall hanging of two dragons with the balls between them, symbolizing the world. “I’m interested in those two, and one of the phoenix.”

  “Of course, sir. We can deliver them to your hotel.”

  Jordon looked at Tian Di.

  Tian Di answered his unasked question. “Since this is a government shop, it’s safe to assume your purchases will arrive.”

 
She countered Jordon’s offer. “Ten percent discount, sir, and I’ll deliver for free.”

  Jordon gave Kathy his hotel details.

  Smiling, Jordon held the door open for Tian Di and whispered, “I would have settled for 8 percent.”

  They strolled to the end of the canal.

  Tian Di started to lead him back toward the main area of downtown.

  “Are those art supply stores?”

  Looking across the street, he gestured to the shops. “I never noticed them, but yeah.”

  Jordon rushed inside. Ten minutes later, he’d purchased brushes, inks, an ornately carved ink block, a fancy swan water dripper, and paper.

  Tian Di asked, “Do you know how to do brush painting?”

  “You mean watercolor?” After Tian Di’s nod, Jordon admitted, “Only a little.”

  “Would you like to meet an artist of brush stroke?”

  “Yeah!”

  Tian Di made a quick call and then told Jordon, “My friend said she’d be home this afternoon if you’re interested to visit.”

  “Yes, that would be great.”

  He confirmed the meeting and disconnected the call.

  Jordon stopped. “This has been such an amazing day. Thank you.”

  Tian Di felt too many things, so he waved Jordon off and changed the subject. “I met the artist, Chin Yu Fan, in the park doing tai chi. She used to be an art professor at Suzhou University.” She’d been impressed how well he handled his fan.

  “I can’t wait to meet her.”

  AFTER LUNCH and a quick stop at the tailor shop where Jordon drew an amazing dragon and phoenix design for a jacket in deep forest green, they went to the artist’s apartment.

  Chin Yu Fan flung open the door. Her height always surprised Tian Di. The artist barely reached his chest.

  Tian Di spoke Mandarin to Chin Yu Fan and shook her hand. “Greetings to you, Aunty.”

  She turned toward Jordon and grinned. “He’s pretty like you. The blond hair, very nice, and those eyes. Those green eyes are special, just like jade.”

  Jordon tentatively smiled back, clearly having no clue as to what she was saying.

  Before Tian Di could stop her, she pushed her fingers right into Jordon’s hair. “Very nice, but too long for a boy. You should take him to get a haircut when you get yours cut.”

  Jordon widened his eyes, but he didn’t duck away. He held out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  She grabbed his hand and held it against her arm. “So white. His skin….”

  Jordon slipped his arm down and caught her hand in his. “Ni hao ma, Fan lăoshī.”

  “Oh, Tian Di. I can’t believe my ears. How does he know the word for teacher in Mandarin?”

  Tian Di shook his head and translated for Jordon.

  Jordon reminded him, “Some of my characters are from China.”

  Tian Di told Chin Yu, “He’s an artist who studies all about his subjects.”

  “Oh, come in.” She fluttered her hands to usher them in from the hallway.

  He admired how easily Jordon slipped off his shoes and into the slippers Chin Yu Fan provided.

  “Thank you for meeting with us. I’m grateful you’ll consider giving Jordon a lesson.”

  “Yes, thank—”

  She held up a finger to Jordon and dashed into her kitchen.

  Chin Yu Fan reappeared, holding out a chopstick to him.

  Tilting his head, Jordon studied the implement. Muttering something about the karate kid, he carefully accepted the chopstick.

  Chin Yu Fan nabbed his hand and scrutinized his fingers. She appeared to be assessing his finger placement as well as his grip. One nod later and she dragged him into her office studio.

  She pointed to chairs, and once they were seated, she scurried around gathering supplies. Returning to the newspaper-covered desk, she laid down a book and a sheet of paper. She paged through the book and stopped on a colorful picture of lotus with a dragonfly resting on a petal. Blocking out all but a few petals of the lotus, she told Tian Di, “Tell him to only see a portion of the picture. Piece by piece he will paint the rest.”

  Tian Di translated.

  Jordon listened.

  “Watercolor is about water. The ink colors the water. You layer the water and the color deepens.” She taught and Tian Di transferred the knowledge.

  This continued for the next hour. Jordon painted a dozen lotuses, sometimes with Chin Yu’s hand-over-hand assistance.

  Watching Jordon work fascinated Tian Di. Jordon’s focus narrowed to the task in front of him. He picked up the technique easily.

  Jordon drew lotuses in various positions with surprising accuracy. “But why can’t I do the lotus my own way?”

  Tian Di filtered down Chin Yu’s almost hostile answer and translated, “You need to follow those who were before you. You don’t change what isn’t broken.”

  “It’s art. My job is to break the rules, to go beyond them and make new ones,” Jordon muttered.

  Chin Yu Fan might not have understood Jordon’s words, but she could read a pout. She said in English, “No. You do the right way. One way, this way.”

  Jordon sighed. “Yes, Fan lăoshī.”

  She X-ed out the lotus Jordon had drawn that was different from the picture in the book. Pointing at the page, she said, “Now do.”

  Following the picture, Jordon replicated how the lotus flower was depicted, line by line.

  “Good.” She petted his hair and then left the room.

  Jordon grabbed a scrap paper and drew a variety of lotuses, none of which was a reproduction of the image in the book. He grinned at Tian Di like he’d won some great victory and slipped his artwork under the newspaper.

  Chin Yu returned with tea and watermelon.

  “Xiè xie ni, Fan lăoshī.” Jordon’s Mandarin with a heavy American accent shouldn’t be such a turn-on.

  After they ate and drank, Chin Yu had Tian Di translate how the picture would go through a preserving process and could be picked up at a later time.

  Jordon smiled.

  Tian Di gave a grateful goodbye to Chin Yu. Once he and Jordon were on the elevator, he readjusted his pants.

  Jordon caught him and asked, “Um, problem?”

  “Between your American accent and watching you lose yourself in art—let’s just say these jeans have never been this much of a challenge.”

  Laughing, Jordon shoved his hands into his pockets. “This has been an incredible day. Thank you.”

  “I feel like I’m trying to jam decades into a day.” The elevator doors slid open. Tian Di put his hand over the doors to ensure they remained open while Jordon stepped off. He followed.

  They meandered down the street in silence toward the train station. Never before had Tian Di wanted to hold someone’s hand so badly.

  Jordon looked at his cell phone. “Oh, I forgot about your show tonight. You should be resting or something.”

  Tian Di kept smiling even though he knew his band would be freaking out. “The train will get us there with plenty of time to spare.”

  On the train, Jordon checked his messages. He growled. “I got a bunch of texts from my brothers.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  Jordon sighed and moved a tiny bit closer to Tian Di. “Yeah, they just want me to go to the teahouse show with them tonight.”

  Tian Di’s heart dropped. He’d been looking forward to Jordon being in his audience tonight to show off a little. “You can go. It’s not like it’ll be your only chance to see me—I mean, Made in China.”

  “No.” Jordon typed onto his phone with speed as he rocked in his seat. “I told them I’m going to see you sing, and that’s final.”

  He could sense the tension and stress this decision caused Jordon, but he didn’t say more. “This is our stop.”

  Tian Di walked him to the hotel. “I guess I’ll see you in a bit.”

  “Good skill,” Jordon said.

  “I thought Americans say ‘break a l
eg.’”

  “Most do. I don’t. I hope you sing to the best of your ability.” Jordon held out his hand.

  Tian Di shook it and pulled him in for a backslapping man-hug that felt odd, especially since he just wanted to cuddle.

  Jordon turned his face and licked a spot—on Tian Di’s neck.

  Shoulder-bumping Jordon, Tian Di claimed, “You’re a demon.”

  “Nah, maybe an imp, though.” Jordon waved and then sashayed into his hotel.

  A quick check of the time showed Tian Di he needed to forego his shower, and he headed directly for the German restaurant.

  Of course, Indigo was there to snap at him. “Where have you been? You’re late.”

  Jin, Styx, and Li stopped fussing with their instruments and stared at him.

  “If by late you mean being on time, just not around to help you set up, then I’m late. Ask me if I care.”

  Indigo stood straight and his fists were clenched. “I don’t need to ask you. I can see—”

  Li stepped in front of Indigo. “Hey, knock it off. We’re all uptight. But Made in China is happening.”

  Tian Di nodded. “Sorry, man.”

  Indigo growled. “Yeah, if he doesn’t screw it up.”

  “Indi,” Li pleaded.

  “What? He’s playing with all of our futures.” Indigo gestured with his head toward Jin and Styx. “We got a whole lot riding on this. Let’s not fuck this to hell just ’cause you want to get your dick wet.”

  Hurt morphed into anger almost quicker than Tian Di could register the emotions. “That’s not what this—”

  Indigo raised his hand. “Don’t, okay? Just don’t.”

  Guilt slashed through Tian Di. He didn’t want to fuck up Made in China’s chance, but he wasn’t willing to walk away from Jordon.

  Chapter 8

  JORDON SIGHED as his phone vibrated with another text. Which brother worried too much this time?

  Where R U? Zack’s text had a demanding ring to it.