Floran was a man from the provinces. He had his younger brother, a shrewd and capable meat merchant, to thank for landing such a cushy job as a fisheries administrator after arriving in Valuva.
He and his brother were polar opposites—the older brother was tall and thin while the younger was short and stout; the older brother was taciturn and indecisive while the younger was outgoing and bold.
It was as if a god had split a mediocre man in two to create the two brothers. Clearly, the younger brother's boldness and pioneering spirit had made him money. In this day and age, his portly figure was the very image of reliability, stability, and wealth, especially among the petty bourgeoisie.
Floran's reticence and listlessness during the day, however, came across as idle and suspicious. He had no meat on his bones—neither fat nor muscle. Near the Valuva market, no mother would want her daughter to marry such an unreliable beanpole.
