《Riches of the Heavenly Kingdom (A Grant Foreman Adventure)》Chapter 7: Tourism

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The Taiping Heavenly Kingdom Museum was not at all what Grant expected. The place was designed to look like a classic Chinese mansion or palace with a modern spin. If Grant was sure that if he had passed the place while driving he would never have guessed it to be a museum based on appearances alone. They stood outside the place, allowing Frankie to take some pictures.

"Its warm," said Rourke. "I'm going to buy myself a lemon Popsicle."

He walked over the an ice cream cart with an old man standing beside it serving as a vendor.

Rourke pointed to the lemon popsicle at the same time that another Caucasian young man beside him did.

"Sorry pal," said the stranger. "But I'm getting this for my girlfriend."

"Sorry but I got here first," Rourke insisted.

"Hey maybe they'll have more inside the museum," said Frankie.

"Back off man unless you wanna get hurt," said the stranger.

Rourke stood up a little straighter and towered over the other man. "I'm taking that popsicle."

"Shouldn't we stop them?" Monty asked nervously.

"No I want to see what he can do," said Grant, smiling.

The stranger threw a punch which Rourke caught. The man screamed as Rourke began to crush his fist in his grip. Rourke's opponent turned victim's girlfriend yelled at Rourke and started hitting him with her purse. A bunch of other boys who looked to be the stranger's friends rushed onto the scene, charging at Rourke. With one great motion Rourke grabbed his opponent and threw him like a sack of potatoes at the incoming backup, knocking them over like pins.

A few minutes later they were inside the museum. Rourke enjoyed his icy lemon treat thoroughly as they toured around. There were indeed many artifacts collected from the Taiping Rebellion period ranging from weaponry, rebels uniforms, and supposedly the robes of the Heavenly King himself. Grant was surprised to see a stature of Hong Xiuquan, depicting him as a majestic and kingly figure considering the negative attitude the Chinese had on his character. At the end of the day he was a fraud that used religion as a front for his political rebellion.

"Hey look at this Grant," said Monty, waving him over. "It's a Taiping coin."

Sure enough behind a glass case was a coin larger than a a grown person's palm, its bronze made a little blue from what Grant assumed was oxidation or rust. Grant couldn't imagine how such a large object could suit everyday use though it did instill sense of excitement. If there were gold and silver versions of the same size out there in great quantity then whoever found the riches of the Heavenly Kingdom would undoubtedly be a rich man.

"This is a sample of what's to come," said Grant as his team huddled around him.

Grant took a picture of the coin on his phone and then approached the nearest museum docent.

"Excuse me do you speak English?"

"Yes," said the docent lady, smiling brightly. "How many I help?"

Grant carefully explained to her their theory on the Taiping treasure. The lady listened intently. Grant was sure she hardly received such intriguing questions.

"I don't think that story is true," said the docent. "Most um...how to say....Shengbao are made from bronze or iron. Gold very rare."

"Shengbao are Taiping coins?" Grant asked.

"Yes, translate to Holy Treasure or Heaven's Treasure."

The docent's lack of confidence in the existence of the treasure rubbed on Grant but he wsn't about to be beaten just yet.

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"Ok but say the Taiping Rebels did make it out of Tainjing and moved the treasure. Where do you think they would move it?"

The docent's lips move, repeating Gran'ts question to herself.

"Ah probably...south. Southern provinces like Guangxi and Guangdong. So sorry only my guess haha!"

"Alright xie xie very much."

The team spent some more time admiring the museum artifacts and listening to informative speeches by docents giving tours. Apparently Hong had claimed that God himself instructed him to lead a rebellion against the Manchus and that his followers believed the Manchus to be demons and therefore enemies of the holy kingdom.

The Taiping seemed to be huge fans of the color gold which Grant assumed associated themselves with the rays of the sun or the light of heaven. The word Taiping itself meant heavenly peace. And the two Chinese characters were inked onto every yellow Taiping Rebel uniform, a simple and thin yellow Chinese jacket.

"Crazy to think these weapons were once held by a person in battle over one hundred and fifty years ago," said Makenna. "Sad to think these were likely taken off a dead rebel."

Exploring further they came across their most promising find in the museum. It was half of a a gold Taiping coin, if one could even call it that. The coin was as wide as a wheel, and only the top right half remained as if it had been broken apart diagonally. The side were two perfectly intact coins of pocket size, one silver and one gold.

"Jesus, I wonder how many of these big ones existed back then," said Monty, his lip trembling as he raised his phone to take a picture. "Now this is what I'm talking about."

Another room has on display a golden throne with a plaque hanging above with four Chinese characters.

"Hong's throne," Frankie breathed. "Gosh I hope it's not just a replica."

The twisting and winding shapes all over the throne were serpent like dragons, a symbol of divinity in Chinese culture. Ironically there were no christian symbols on the throne as far as he could tell. Perhaps Hong has just modified the old throne used by the Ming when it was still a regional capitol.

"Pretty impressive and showy for a peasant revolt," said Grant, continuing to admire the throne. "I bet George Washington never sat in the chair like that."

"Washington wasn't a king," said Makenna.

"Maybe not but he sure would have felt like one on a chair like that."

Makenna snapped some photos of the throne while Rourke shoved aside some giggling tourists that were blocking her shots.

"Hey," one chubby and petite man protested as he was pushed aside.

Rourke towered over him, glaring death right down into his pudgy face.

"So sorry," he said, backing off. "I didn't know this was your spot."

Grant look down at her while she knelt to take more photos at a different angle. She was wearing tight denim short shorts with a white t shirt. Her pink flip flops had her look a little girlish.

After they had had their fill of the museum artifacts, the team took a lunch break outside. Frankie had gone out early in the morning to buy Kentucky Friend Chicken.

"I can't believe I flew all this way just to eat KFC," Monty grumbled. "It does taste a little different from what we get in the states. I mean that in the best way possible of course."

"China loves KFC," said Frankie. "I thought they might put a spin on an American staple."

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Grant nodded in approval as he took a bite out of his chicken sandwich. "Ok I think we're all pretty pumped after what we saw in the museum. If there are more golden wheels like the one we saw back there then I'll dig hole across all of southern China if I have to."

"Hear hear," said Frankie. "I'll write up some notes when we get back to the hotel and formulate a plan. In the meantime I say we earned a relaxing lunch break."

"Shit, I forgot that China blocks Youtube so I can't watch my gaming videos," said Monty glumly.

"When in Rome act like Romans," said Frankie. "Here let me show you some of the popular websites in China."

As Monty and Frankie played with their phones, Rourke stared down everyone who passed. He was so mysterious yet somewhat simpleminded in manner.

"Where did Tim find a guy like him," Grant muttered.

"I gotta admit I'm pretty stoked about this treasure now," said Makenna. "I'd gladly take it over the car. But don't think I forgot about out deal even for a second."

"On my honor," said Grant, mashing his sandwich wrapper into a ball. "By the way, about last night."

"Look I get it I'm a pain in the ass to you," said Makenna.

"Well I've certainly having a good time on this out of the blue expedition," said Grant. "But yeah I wish it had been instigated under better circumstances."

Makenna shook her head. "I think we're talking about different things. I meant when you pushed me away last night."

Grant raised and eyebrow at her. "Now your really really warming up to me Nellis."

Makenna shot him a glare and then turned back to observe the traffic on the road. "Thanks to your little charming act I could hardly sleep a wink last night. I'm close to passing out right now. It's only the morning tea that's holding me together."

"Hey if you want my shoulder is free at the moment."

Makenna hit him on the arm.

"Sorry but I slept just fine last night," Grant admitted.

"I see," said Makenna. Grant picked up on the trances of disappointment in her voice despite her efforts to hide it.

"Hey your a pretty girl alright I just wanted to focus on what needed to be done."

Makenna looked at him in the eyes. "Oh yeah how pretty?"

"Well I think personality is more important and I think your starting to check out in that category."

"So my intellect and character I guess makes up for my average looks huh?"

"I'm fairly certain the word pretty and average looking are contradicting terms."

Makenna laughed. "Then would you say I'm on your mind?"

"Right now the treasure is on my mind but if I wasn't to preoccupied with it, yeah, I think you'd take up a lot of room up there."

Makenna bit her lip and scooted closer to Grant. Her bare leg was touching his jeans.

"And if you were not otherwise preoccupied, how do you think you would you describe the way you feel when you think of me Mr. Foreman?"

"Uhhh, heated I suppose."

"Come again?"

Grant beamed down at her then leaned into her ear to whisper. "I'd feel flushed thinking about you wearing nothing but that black hoodie."

Makenna pulled back and beamed back at him.

Grant glanced down at Makenna's cleavage. He could see between her breasts down into the darkness of her shirt.

"How badly do you want to see them right now?" said Makenna quietly.

"I happen to have good self control," said Grant. "You would know from last night."

Once the team had finished their lunch they convened to make plans.

"I suggest we go to where the treasure was last known to be kept," said Frankie. "The Ming Palace here in Nanjing."

Monty check his phone. "That's not far from here. Only a few minutes by taxi and one hour to walk."

A taxi ride later they found themselves at the Donhua gate that faced the east. After purchasing their tickets they stepped through the one of the few original structures left of the once great Palace of the Heavenly King. The gate arch was marvelous to look at walking through and was wide enough to allow five men to walk abreast.

"According to this brochure the Wing destroyed all the structures within the palace walls," said Monty. "Everything you see around you was built way after the battle."

"Wait I gotta use the restroom," said Grant. "Go on without me I'll find you guys."

"Alright but make it quick," said Frankie. "The more people we have on hand the more efficient we will be at exploring this place.

Grant found the structure labeled restroom after a few minutes of wandering. He emptied his bowels as quickly as he could, not caring about the squelchy sounds he made as he did. By the time he was done and stepped out of the stall, his anus felt like it was on fire.

"No more KFC," Grant grumbled. As he washed his hands he became aware of the multiple men that stood looking at him with the some cold stares.

Grant stood up straight and looked into the mirror, confused. "Something I can help you with gentlemen?"

They were all foreigners to China, that much was clear. Two Hispanics and three Caucasians. One of the Caucasians had a baton in his hand, another a taser. In the mirror he could also see that the bathroom door was locked. He knew wasn't fighting his way of this.

"Help!" Grant yelled as loudly as he could. "Rourke!"

The one with the taser came first as Grant had anticipated. He ripped the sink out from the wall and smashed it in the face with a grunt. The one with the baton brought his weapon down on Grant's arm and knee, breaking his structure.

"Son of a bitch!" Grant snarled. A heavy arm wrapped around his neck as the words left his mouth. He reached out at the man with the baton and grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him into a headbutt before ravaging his neck with his teeth. As the baton wielder fell back screaming, Grant threw his head backwards and bit down on the forearm that was choking him, releasing the hold.

Two of the others tackled him into a stall, bringing down the walls. Grant reached into the toilet bowl blindly and threw some of the foul liquid into the closest man's face, which cause him to pull back and retch. There were too many though and Grant found himself being pounded and pinned on the dirty floor of the restroom. The taser went into his side and his body seized violently in pain before everything went black.

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