Amanda Collier took a deep breath, pushing down the vexation and anxiety that she’d been feeling ever since she’d taken the call to schedule this visit. Sitting next to her, Tamara Greenly, called Tara, seemed to be struggling similarly, though she hoped that she was succeeding far better than the little girl. At six years old it was natural for her to wiggle and squirm, unlike a woman fifty-two years old.

Amanda had been working for the Deborah Halls Orphanage for the better part of twenty years, first as a part-time caretaker, for when the older kids got back from school, then as a full-time caretaker, and finally as a live-in. In all of that time, she’d never gotten such an odd request as the one she received the previous week. Apparently, there was a new facility opening and they were looking to ‘ease the burden’ of various facilities. She had done a complete background check both on her visitor and on the new boarding school and everything seemed to check out. Still, the idea of allowing him to simply choose whichever children struck his fancy rubbed her the wrong way.

Even more interesting was his request to interview every child of six. Yet the man on the phone was very specific – every child, regardless of gender, ethnicity, capability, or disposition, as long as they were six and had not yet started first grade. Giving tours was quite common, allowing the prospective parents to allow the children to meet them essentially at random, but making time for someone to sit down with each and every child? That was quite a request. The only thing that made it possible was that the orphanage ran its own kindergarten rather than sending the kids off, meaning that they could continue throughout the day without interruption. If he asked to interview school-aged kids it would have been impossible.

Just as Amanda was starting to fidget again, absently mulling over the possibility that the call had been a prank of some sort, the door opened to show John Tyler escorting another man into the room. One look at the man had her heart sinking. She was instantly sure that whatever this man was seeking, he wouldn’t find it among her kids. Some part of her was vaguely saddened by the thought, but she ignored it, rising smoothly to offer her hand.

“Amanda Collier. I’m the Assistant Director for the orphanage.” The man took his hand from behind his back, smoothly flicking back the over-long sleeve of his eastern-style robe so that he was unhindered returning her handshake. His features were only vaguely Asian, though he had the requisite black hair and deep brown eyes. His mannerisms spoke of the rigid social formalities that dominated Asian cultures.

“I am Fang Gui,” replied the man. His accent was soft and subtle, his English well spoken. Judging by accent alone she would have guessed that he had been in the US since he was a small child but his clothes said otherwise. That likely meant he was extremely well educated, sophisticated. Few Asian men wore robes these days, preferring more western business wear such as a suit and tie, yet this man wore the traditional robes as if he’d never worn anything else.

“Why are you wearing a dress?” asked Tara.

The man stopped and looked at her. For a heartbeat, Amanda was sure that Fang Gui was going to reprimand the child for her rudeness, but to her surprise, his face softened and he knelt down in front of her without hesitation.

“This is not a dress,” he said calmly as he looked the child in the eye. “This is a robe. It counts as formal wear for men where I come from, much like an American man might wear a business suit and tie. I considered wearing such instead but decided that being honest about myself was better than to try and conform to what might be expected. My name is Fang Gui, though you might think my name is backward since ‘Fang’ is my family name and ‘Gui’ was my given name, though I ask you do not call me Gui Fang, as it is rude where I am from to put your own name before that of your family. What is your name?”

“I’m Tara Greenly. I don’t have a family. If I don’t have a family is it still rude to put my first name first? Or should I say it the other way around too? Greenly Tara just sounds weird though. Would I have to take your last name if you adopted me? Fang Tara sounds much better than Greenly Tara.”

Much to Amanda’s surprise, the man sat and let the girl ramble, seeming content to simply listen to her while he knelt on the floor in his obviously expensive robe. Occasionally he would answer a question or interject a comment when Tara stopped to catch her breath or couldn’t figure out what to say, but for the most part, he just listened. His smile seemed genuine and even when she asked a question that Amanda might have scolded her for he never showed any sign of discontent.

After about five minutes he held up his hand, bringing Tara’s rambling to a rather abrupt halt. “Tara, I very much enjoyed our little talk, but I am scheduled to meet all of the children your age today. However, I will be arranging a tour of our new school soon. Would you be interested in seeing it? If you like it I might be persuaded to let you go there.”

Of course, this got an excited squeal from Tara, who was practically bouncing in anticipation. Still, she didn’t forget herself and turned to Amanda instead. “May I Mrs. Collier?”

Amanda smiled and nodded, pleased that the child remembered at least that much. “We’ll work out precisely when, but yes. Now Mr. Fang has said that he must begin meeting other children. Say your farewells, Tara.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Fang. It was a pleasure meeting you!” Tara’s childish exuberance had her nearly shouting but Fang Gui didn’t seem to mind at all.

“It was a pleasure to meet you as well, Tara. I hope we will be seeing each other again soon.” Without any apparent discomfort, the man unfolded himself gracefully from the floor and took the seat across from Amanda. John, who had been doing his best to stay in the background until that moment, took Tara and promised to return momentarily.

They were silent as they waited for John to return, the man seemingly so at peace that Amanda felt she would be intruding if she spoke. Soon John returned with another child, Marcus Nash, a child halfway to his seventh birthday.

The interview with Marcus was much like the one with Tara, with the man easily descending to his level and patiently listening and engaging with him. They talked for about five minutes before Fang Gui thanked the child for his time. This time, however, Fang Gui did not invite him to visit his home. The only difference between the two that Amanda could spot, besides the obvious, was that Tara was much more exuberant and outgoing than Marcus, making the boy seem almost shy. Regardless of the reason, Marcus left feeling good, never knowing that he had been discounted. Amanda felt bad for the child, but she had to admit that Fang Gui had handled the situation quite gracefully, never getting the child’s hopes up and not giving an outright rejection either. Despite his rather formal demeanor, he seemed quite kind.

The day continued in that fashion, with Fang Gui spending much of the day sitting on the floor with one child or another. Only two other times did he offer an invitation to his home, once to a boy by the name of George Hawthorne, the other to a girl of six by only days named Rosanne Doherty. Amanda was quite surprised by his invitation to Rosanne. Unlike the other two, Rosanne was a quiet girl, almost painfully shy, and it had taken Fang Gui leading the conversation every step of the way for the girl to talk to him at all. He’d spent nearly twice the time speaking with her as he had any of the other kids, mostly because he had spent nearly a full five minutes coaxing her to talk to him at all. When she left she had been comfortable enough to give him a shy little wave, though she was still embarrassed enough by the act to hide her face behind her scrunched up shirt immediately afterward and run from the room. Fang Gui chuckled at that.

At the end of the day, Fang Gui had discussed the particulars of the children’s visit to his home only for Amanda to experience her greatest shock of the day. Quite contrary to her expectations, Fang Gui wasn’t a local. His home was in Washington State, apparently on some island near Seattle. He claimed to have moved there quite recently, having decided to join the school as a teacher-caretaker.

What truly shocked her, however, was his sparse explanation of the travel arrangements. Simply put, he was planning to have the three kids, along with a caretaker of her choice, fly first class to the local airport, where he would have a driver meet them and take them to the school. Amanda seriously considered volunteering for the trip, not having ever flown first class herself, but she knew she couldn’t be spared. Likely it would be one of the younger caretakers who would go.

Amanda would have been quite startled to learn of similar conversations that were taking place all across the English speaking world. All in all, nearly five hundred children were invited to visit the school over the next three months. The invitations were always sparse, simply a few words inviting the child to come to visit, but it was always accompanied by offers of first-class travel accommodations. For those who would have to make longer trips, luxury hotel rooms were promised, along with generous travel allowances. No expense was spared, either for the child or their accompanying guardians. Some guardians felt uncomfortable accepting such largess and declined their invitations, but most accepted willingly enough, content to let their patron spoil these children who had often seen too much hardship.

Like Amanda, nearly every institution made inquiries regarding the school, known as the Immortal Mysteries School for Enrichment of Child Talents. They all received satisfactory, if somewhat surprising, answers, namely that the school was being founded by a rich industrialist, one Zhao Gang, who was sparing no expense to take in students from all over the world, provided that the child spoke English.

He had gone to great trouble to follow the rules precisely, using neither influence nor money to expedite the opening of the school, something which is commonly done. Instead, he had patiently waited more than eight years for the process to be completed properly, not taking any shortcuts. He had hired the best teachers money could buy and supplemented them with a group of teachers from his own culture, who would be teaching things like his cultural history and etiquette, along with a fairly rigorous program of physical education. Apparently, his culture saw teaching martial arts as a kind of rite of passage for children, which meant that he felt it was important enough to insist on teaching the students. There were some gentle inquiries about which art he would be teaching, but the answer was always the same - each student would be taught the arts which best fit their body and mentality. Obviously, he was taking educating these children seriously.

Satisfied, Amanda didn’t hesitate to make arrangements for the three children and a caretaker to visit.