“I think I shall go for a walk. This is such a nice walking neighborhood, you know.”

“That’s all? You’re not going to stop me?”

“Shizuka, as you have reminded me so often of late, there is still plenty of time. And remember, six of your students chose their paths on their own. The seventh will be no different. The final choice will be Katrina’s. And you will not be able to interfere.”

“Even if I love her?”

“No. Because you love her.”

NOVEMBER

31

As with most events in the San Gabriel Valley, this press conference went unnoticed by most of Greater Los Angeles. Yet, for Asians, as well as a circle of competitive violinists and teachers, the event and its aftermath would be world-shaking.

At an impressive podium stood a yet more impressive gentleman named Daniel Kar-Ching Tso, who happened to be the CEO of Xinhua Phoenix Investment Bank.

No one was quite sure why he’d called the conference, but since it was China and it was a lot of money, cameras and reporters were present from Cantonese, Korean, Tagalog, Cambodian, Thai, and Vietnamese TV stations.

Mr. Tso gestured, and a large screen behind him displayed disturbing scenes of conflict and division throughout Asia, Europe, Africa, and the United States.

“Every day, we become more and more divided. This makes planning for our futures very difficult. Don’t you agree?”

He spoke in Mandarin and left it to everyone else to translate for themselves. Mr. Tso was benevolent and terrifying in that rich uncle mixture of awe, respect, and hope that one might inherit his collection of Bentleys.

“The world would do well to work toward more harmony. A harmonious world is better for both people and business. XPIB wishes to promote cultural harmony.”

Now there were scenes of children around the world playing together, singing and sharing to the sound of Mozart.

The audience waited anxiously. So far, the messaging had been sentimental, heavy-handed, overly produced. In other words, exactly the sort of message expected from a mainland Chinese bank. What would follow?

Some reporters thought XPIB might announce a new investment venture. Others thought perhaps they might be supporting a new humanitarian initiative, probably for children. Helping children was always good for public relations.

But now there was a Laotian child playing violin in front of her village. A Mongolian youth playing violin in cosplay. A young man playing violin to a Pakistani family eating their dinner. And there was a computer image of someone playing violin in space.

“I am pleased to announce the first Biennial Xinhua Phoenix Investment Bank Golden Friendship Violin Competition,” Mr. Tso said magnanimously.

The audience applauded automatically. This was unexpected, but not shocking. Money was important, but legitimacy, respect, and admiration were just as valued, and classical music provided all of this.

But Mr. Tso was not finished.