Fang Wen's trading post was not what I had expected.
I had imagined something modest — a retired merchant's comfortable retreat, a place arranged for the quiet management of old business. What I found instead was a compound that hummed with activity. Men moved through the courtyard with the purposeful efficiency of people who had somewhere to be and knew exactly how to get there. There were at least three separate warehouses visible from the entrance, all with their doors open and their contents in motion.
"You said he was retired," I said to Kaien as we followed a young assistant through the compound.
"He is retired," Kaien said. "From the kind of trading that required him to travel. He still trades."
