...rustle...
"...Yes, yes, something like that happened. When I came home from work that afternoon, I saw their front door was open. I was going to say hello and ask why they were back, but when I went in, I found the place was empty. The house was empty, the door was open, and I had no idea what had happened. My husband was the one who said they might've been robbed, and that's when I thought to call the police. Thieves these days are just lawless. They break in and haul away everything a family owns, leaving nothing behind. Honestly..."
"Did the police contact Mr. Qian about this?"
"How could they? He's overseas, and nobody knows how to get in touch with him. When they left—oh, when Old Qian first left, I heard his wife mention something in passing. After he settled in over there, he'd send letters back home. I guess he planned to find a place to live first, then let them know. Later, his wife and son went over to join him, so there was no way to contact them after that."
"Didn't he have any relatives who stayed in the country?"
"I think he did. But they didn't know what was going on with the family either. I'll tell you what we've been quietly guessing—Old Qian might've run off to escape his debts. Otherwise, why would the whole family suddenly rush off, without even taking care of the house? It was a perfectly good house. It must've cost a lot. Old Qian had gone to a lot of trouble to buy it."
"Was Mr. Qian in debt?"
"How would I know?"
"Do you know how to contact any of his relatives?"
"I don't know that either. I only saw them a couple of times when