C22

I looked up. In front of the house was a clump of bamboo, a tall camphor tree that swayed gently in the night wind. Leaves rustled. Uncle Liu said, "Yo, I'm afraid they're not home!"

As he got closer, Uncle Liu shouted in a loud voice, "Qing Yang, Qing Yang …"

The door was still closed, and there was no answer. It was clear that no one was at home. I was disappointed