The world of China's Yao minority lies in the remote areas of Guangdong and Guangxi. The range of tall mountains and foothills of the area are all made of limestone. In 1993, when Hong Kong's Ming Pao Daily News reported on the harsh life of these mountain inhabitants and the long, arduous distances their students must travel to attend school, I started to come to know the Yao.

In the summer of 1994, southern China was visited with torrential rains. The principal of Nan'gang Elementary School in his Yao minority autonomous county wrote a letter relating that buildings at two of the local branch schools were battered severely. At any moment they could collapse and prevent the students from going to school. He hoped that we could help him replace them. Therefore, I decided to go to the actual location and photograph the state of the damaged buildings, after which I would return to Hong Kong and help them look for funds for rebuilding.

On the long road which stretches across southern China from Guangdong City to this Yao autonomous county, the road conditions were very rugged. Ruffians suddenly appeared to cajole money. I gritted my teeth tightly and shut my eyes to steady my nerves. I didn't dare to interfere with those highway robbers as they did such wicked things as bully some laborers and coerce them into gambling. But in the end I could bear it no longer and forced myself to raise my head. I opened my eyes wide, raised my voice and pointing to that group of hooligans, said: "A television reporter and the county chief are at the final station waiting for us. Get out of this vehicle right away and don't hold up our work of helping the poor." As the ruffians left, they gazed viciously straight into my eyes, and gave a laborer from Hunan several punches. Luckily, they didn't cause any great damage. Peace is good fortune! And that poor laborer was lucky enough to have the good fortune of the "reporter and county chief."

That reporting trip was actually not very trying. While crossing over the high mountains, there were many surprises I had not expected. Underneath a lofty mountain peak, I drank a big bottle of pure, sweet natural spring water. Gazing at the green and elegant mountains, now hidden by the clouds in the sky, now coming into view, it was like regarding the famous paintings of Zhang Daqian, or as if I had found myself in one of Lang Jingshan's masterful photographs. To be able to linger in a world right out of a poem or a painting, to talk about everything under the sun, the old and the new, with the simple, good-hearted, stubbornly idealistic teachers of that mountainous area, was both romantic and utterly beautiful. What is there more to ask of this life?

When we sat resting on the limestone rocks, gazing down on the little winding path below the mountain and looking up to the blue sky and white clouds, I couldn't help fantasizing big economic development schemes to help the people of these remote mountains, like manufacturing Lian Mountain mineral water, bottling fresh Lian Mountain air, building a heliport, or developing a tourist business. At that moment, the "wounds of history" and "handsomeness stained by blood" that has been ours for many years, the sorrow that cannot be wiped away, was completely left behind far beyond the horizon.

Over the past two years, we have procured medicine for the school, given many different kinds of books and writing materials, and funded the advanced studies of the teachers. Furthermore, the Hong Kong Rotary Club donated the funds to rebuild two schools. What was really special was that Principal Deng and one of the teachers, Mr. Tang, joined our association, spreading Dr. Sun Yat-sen's spirit of "love and service" and bringing it to fruition in that backward mountainous region.

Since the Lunar New Year, Principal Deng has given me two telephone calls. The first time was to ask for support on behalf of one of the students who had tested into teacher's school. In the mainland, because the central government's policies are no match for local measures, if an exemplary student has his or her heart set on becoming a teacher, the penniless parents must wrack their brains to come up with tens of thousands of Yuan for tuition and other expenses. The second time, he called to report that another association, the "Puxian Society" had just transferred funds to them to help two teachers do advanced study. He then gave back this year's aid money, to help someone else. When compatriots overseas heard the news, everyone praised the principal's righteous behavior, and they admired the idealism with which the youth of the mountains dedicated themselves to education.

For the progress of their people, the educational workers of this mountainous area firmly man their posts, happy to lead simple, virtuous lives. Just like the orchid that attracts not the slightest attention, opening up little bright yellow blossoms under the cold wind and clamorous rain, they stand proud, refusing to bow their heads. Can we who live underneath the bright and sunny skies remained unmoved?

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The school buildings are tattered and old, and the children's clothes are ragged, but their beaming smiles give us a glimpse at the hopes that the Yao cherish.

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Mountainous areas of China are poor in material goods, and transportation links inconvenient. Wares donated by folks from Hong Kong to help the people must be carried to the hills through human toil.

Mountainous areas of China are poor in material goods, and transportation links inconvenient. Wares donated by folks from Hong Kong to help the people must be carried to the hills through human toil.