For a lesser man, the road would have taken upwards of an hour and a half. Kun Fan, however, was no lesser man. Within the old man raged the strength of an ox and the speed of a purebred stallion. He dashed down the path, the rickshaw wheels moving so fast it looked as if they would go careening off into the forest any second, but they never did- such was the quality of his younger brother's craftsmanship. Forty minutes, and they were there, on the outskirts of the village.
Kun Fan relaxed his pace- no need to rush past when he could let others eye his wares. He drew the rickshaw into the village center, retrieving a blanket from the back and laying it out in front of the rickshaw, sitting crosslegged as he finished setting up.
Nothing to do now but wait.