One

  In my childhood, there were many archways in my hometown.

  A paifang is a stone gate frame, generally about two stories high. Every year when the rural areas hold the "Temple Fair" celebrations, they also temporarily build a wooden paifang at the temple entrance, decorated very festively, and its dismantled after a few days of celebration. The ones that are never dismantled are those stone paifangs, with the oldest being over 500 years old.

  Among the various artisans in the countryside, stonemasons have the highest status. This is because other artisans work is relatively ordinary, while stonemasons work is more important. Among stonemasons, there are three levels: the lowest level carves tombstones, the middle level builds stone bridges, and the highest level builds archways.

  Just like many industries in the world, the more work you do, the lower your rank, and the less work you do, the higher your rank. This has led to a strange phenomenon where those with lower ranks actually live better lives, while those with higher ranks have harder lives.

  Carving tombstones, every household is related. Each family spends money when doing funeral affairs and rarely haggles over prices, so these stonemasons are particularly wealthy. However, everyone knows that these tombstone stonemasons often have dealings with grave robbers. Why do grave robbers always choose the right ones? Why do they know the hidden doors and live bricks clearly? Its because these stonemasons leaked the information. Grave robbers are called "grave-digging gangsters" by the villagers, and the most famous one in the surrounding areas is called "Night Immortal". Therefore, the villagers also call the tombstone stonemasons "Night Immortal Class", also known as "Immortal Class".

  The most renowned are the stone masons of the memorial arches, respected by people both inside and outside their hometown. The memorial arches make people look up to them, and so do they, despite being extremely poor.

  Its no wonder that stonemasons rarely get to work on a paifang, as it is a rare occurrence and many years may pass before they have the chance.

  Unlike the "Zhuangyuan Paifang" and "Yuxi Paifang" in other places, the villages paifangs here are almost all erected for women, some of whom have already passed away. Each paifang is dedicated to commemorating these womens virtues of "remaining chaste from youth to old age and not remarrying after being widowed", hence also known as "Chastity Paifangs". However, there are many widows in the countryside, but only a very small number can have paifangs erected for them, requiring a series of strict standards. This matter cannot be decided by the clan head, village head, bao head or jia head alone, and must be reported to the "Xiangshen Public Association" for decision.

  In comparison, the famous "Fans Wife Archway" is the largest. After her husbands death, Fans wife single-handedly raised several children to adulthood. One of her sons passed the imperial examination and became a minor official. It was this son who, after his mothers passing, requested the local gentry association to erect an archway in her honor, which was built with great care.

  Those other archways are a bit strange when mentioned. For example, the man and woman had not yet married, but the fiancé died. According to the customs at that time, the two had not even met each other, and as soon as the fiancée heard the news of his death, she immediately jumped into a well and committed suicide. Or, a woman had just become a widow when someone came to propose marriage, and after being proposed three times, she hanged herself. Of course, these were all matters of wealthy families; poor people generally did not do such things, and even if they did, no archway would be erected.

  Mrs. Fans memorial archway was made of white stone, close to grayish-brown in color, and felt very smooth to the touch; while those of the young women who had committed suicide were made of bluish-gray stone, which felt cool to the touch, with a series of concave and convex lines that were slightly rough on the hands.

  Apart from winter, the archway is a resting place for villagers and passersby. The archway always leans against the main road, with stone bases to sit or lie on, and stone pillars to lean back on. Therefore, many people like to come here to chat, recline, watch white clouds, listen to cicadas chirping, and spread gossip.

  That morning, Pan Mugong, the respected stone mason from the village, walked out of his house and onto the main road. He wore a clean blue cloth shirt, with a long bundle slung over his shoulder, walking at a moderate pace. When asked by his neighbors where he was going, he said that he had been invited by a stranger in black clothes the night before to go to Shannan Town to supervise the construction of a memorial archway.

  This was a big deal, and the villagers immediately spread the news, as such an invitation had not been extended in two years. Shannan Town is ten miles away, but according to local customs, even if its a great master, he still has to return home every day. Therefore, at dusk, many villagers were squatting under the archway, waiting for his return.

  Among the onlookers, a young "xianban" (a stonemason who carves tombstones) was the most excited. He might have had some connection with the grave robbers. Although stonemasons and stone carvers rarely interacted, this young mason had always wanted to apprentice under Pan Mugong. He had sent messages before but received no response. Today, hearing that Pan Mugong was in a good mood when he left home, he waited under the archway, hoping to get close to him.

  If its almost time, theres a question to ask the old man. This question has been lingering in my mind for a long time, and I dont dare say it to others.

  Two

  Judging from his gait when he walked out of the mountain village, Pan Mugong was very tired today. His figure staggered under the sunset.

  Completely different from when he went out in the morning.

  The young stonecutter came forward, supporting him to sit down on the foundation stone of the archway. Pan Mugong looked at the young stonecutter with gratitude and felt a bit familiar. The young stonecutter said: "I am also a stonecutter, without talent, making tombstones."

  "Are you a stonemason too?" Pan Mugong grabbed his hand and said, "Tomorrow follow me to Shannan Town, that place doesnt even have an extra pair of hands."

  The young stonemason nodded at once and said: "Alright, Ill follow you and listen to your instructions."

  On the second day on the way to Shannan Town, the young stonemason kept finding excuses to chat with Pan Mugong, and finally, he hesitantly asked the question that had been lingering in his mind.

  "Master Mu, all those arches youve built throughout your life, most of them are for young women, arent they?"

  "Hmm." Pan Mugong was always a man of few words.

  "Those poor little women, Ill carve tombstones for them first, and you can carve memorial archways for them later, thats also a kind of blessing." The young stonecutter said.

  "Whats going on?" Pan Mugong asked back.

  "I said it was luck." The young stone mason hesitated for a moment and then said, "You built an archway for them, and they went to heaven."

  "Is it Heaven?" Pan Mugong shook his head and said, "The memorial arch doesnt have that kind of power. Suicide is just suicide, theyre all so young, its always heartbreaking."

  "But as soon as you build a memorial arch for them, the tomb is empty and they really fly away," said the young stonecutter.

  Pan Mugong suddenly turned around, grasped the young stone masons hand and asked: "What? The tomb is empty? How do you know?"

  At this, the young stone mason panicked. Every time he finished his work, tomb raiders would come to threaten and entice him, forcing him to reveal the burial situation. However, as long as it was a woman who had committed suicide by standing on a memorial archway, the tomb raiders would leave empty-handed every time, so they would scold him severely each time. After many times, the young stone mason judged that all those women had ascended to heaven. But this was just a guess, and he really wanted to hear an explanation from Pan Mu Gong.

  "Have you joined the tomb raiders?" Pan Mugong sternly asked.

  "No, it was those grave robbers from Ye Xian who said that." The young stonemason hastily explained. He looked at Pan Mugongs puzzled gaze and simply reported which grave robbers had dug up which womens graves, with a very sincere attitude.

  "Are they all empty?" Pan Mugong stopped in his tracks and sat down on a large stone by the side of the road, muttering to himself. As he spoke, he looked up and asked the young stonemason, "When burying, did you definitely put the coffin inside?"

  "I was there, and Im sure it went in, my family was crying hysterically."

  "Isnt the coffin empty?" Pan Mugong asked.

  "How am I supposed to know? But judging from the look of it, theres a difference." The young carpenter said.

  Pan Mugong took out a cigarette from his waistband and lit it up.

  After a while, Pan Mugong said intermittently: "When I built the memorial arch, I also encountered some strange things that I couldnt figure out. ... Is the tomb empty? How is it possible? ... The Taoist priest said ascension refers to the soul, not the body. Then where did the body in the grave go?"

  After finishing their cigarettes, the two men stood up and headed towards Shannan Town. Step by step, they walked in a scattered manner. They went to build another new archway.

  Three

  Not far from where Master Pan sat and smoked, there was a dilapidated small courtyard. The outer wall was made of mud and had collapsed in many places. On the roof of the house, weeds grew. It was an abandoned nunnery.

  According to the old man, Nigou An was once very prosperous. Later, as the number of nuns decreased, it gradually became deserted. Two years ago, the last nun also left because she could no longer make a living. Where did she go? Nobody knows.

  According to the old man, the prosperity of the nunnery was not entirely due to pilgrims. Those nuns were really too beautiful, and its unknown where they came from. One left and another arrived, one came and another left, and the villagers took turns watching. When going to town for the market, people would deliberately detour to take a look at the nunnery. Some lazy rascals would linger there for half a day. Therefore, at that time, it was rumored that those nuns were driven away by the lecherous eyes and coarse language of those men.

  Not far from the nunnery, to the northwest, is Wu Shan Temple, where many monks have come. Although monks and nuns belong to Buddhism, they never visit each other. Villagers know that this is to avoid gossip. The Buddhist rules are strict, even in such a remote place, there is no relaxation. Wu Shan Temple gathers a large number of elderly women from the surrounding villages every day, so it can be considered a "thriving temple". There are two old monks from outside, with two young monks, and a local temple manager who takes care of miscellaneous tasks. The two senior monks were fat and thin, the thin one was the "master monk", named Xing Chan, who claimed to have come from Wuwei, Gansu Province.

  Unlike the collapsed mud wall of the nuns house, the yellow wall of Wu Shan Temple was newly painted last year and looked more spirited. The mud wall, the yellow wall, plus the white stone and bluestone of those archways, several colors, indicating the public places for rural people. At this moment, only the yellow wall is the most lively and popular. The other colors are too profound.

  Four

  The nunnery has some movement.

  Two young women, accompanied by the village head, walked towards that small path. In front of them, the village chief led two young farmers, who parted the knee-deep reeds to clear the way. On either side of these two young farmers was a porter, carrying two large trunks. These two large trunks were naturally those of the two young women.

  Arriving at the crooked wooden door of the nuns hut, the village chief pulled out a large key from his pocket to unlock the old iron lock that was rusted and crumbling. After fiddling with it for half a day, the wooden door creaked open. The village chief ordered two young farmers: "First sweep out a room where we can put our feet down, then thoroughly clean the whole place!"

  The village head saw a dozen or so farmers following behind and turned to say to everyone: "A primary school is going to be set up here, these are two teachers, and three more will come later. You all help sweep together, from now on the children of every household will come to read books here!"

  The villagers nodded in agreement, their eyes fixed on the two female teachers. The two female teachers were extremely shy, lowering their heads and turning around to avoid everyones gaze. They were so beautiful that they left people speechless.

  The female teacher followed two young farmers and stepped over the threshold into the inner courtyard. Now it was their turn to be speechless. The several ridges of flowers were full, neat and tidy, half tender yellow and half light purple, blooming luxuriantly and beautifully.

  The village head and village chief also followed. The village head said: "The door has been closed for so long, no one has seen it, no one has served it, how can the flowers still bloom so well?"

  The village head said: "Flowers are like this, they avoid people. The farther away they are, the better they grow."

  A female teacher asked timidly: "Who planted this flower?"

  The village head said: "Nuns, no one knows where they went, leaving so many flowers."

  Two female teachers eyes lit up, and they couldnt care less about the villagers watching them, only bending down to look at the flowers, sniffing them, and even stretching out their fingers to gently stir the flowers. Behind them, the village chief directed the villagers to start sweeping the yard and house.

  "When those nuns came, they were as young as you are now," said the village head to the female teacher.

  "Its also as good-looking as you guys." An auntie said with a smile.

  The wall needs to be repaired, the house needs to be fixed, and the desks, chairs, and lecterns for class need to be made. After discussing with the village head and township head, they found a carpenter, mason, and stone worker from the town. The young stone worker who accompanied Pan Mugong to Shannan Town was also called over. He took one look at the amount of work and couldnt handle it all at once, so he also invited out Pan Mugong, whom he had just apprenticed with.

  Pan Mugong made his debut, and things had to be done properly, and the head of the village specially allocated some money.

  Soon, three more female teachers arrived one after another. On the wall of the corridor, a hand-cranked bell was hung. From then on, the sound of the bell could be heard at the beginning and end of each class.

  Pan Mugong worked while looking around, but rarely spoke. He carefully looked at the flowers, looked at the house where the nuns lived in those years, and then looked at the backs of the female teachers. When a female teacher turned her head, he would shift his gaze away, and look at the flowers again.

  He spent more time smoking alone, always thinking about something, and didnt talk to others.

  He soon found the village head and said: "Ill build a stone gate for the elementary school, the stone material has been selected, and the village will pay some money."

  The village head agreed readily. The young stone worker once again lent a helping hand.

  The stone gate was finished, and the villagers took a look. It was still Pan Mugongs old trick, a brand new archway came to life. He had put all his lifelong efforts into it, and it was even more magnificent than Fan Furens archway.

  Above the stone gate, there are two horizontal beams. The upper one has the name of the nunnery carved in small characters; the lower one has the name of the primary school carved in large characters. On both sides of the gate foundation, there are fresh flowers, half tender yellow and half light purple.

  Five

  The village head and several village heads helped the primary school to recruit students with great difficulty. They went from door to door to persuade people, but in the end, they only recruited boys, without any girls.

  No matter how many times they said it, every farmers family was convinced that girls couldnt go to school. Girls had to learn spinning, mulberry picking, washing clothes and taking care of their younger brothers from a young age, how could they just drop everything and go to elementary school with so many boys? After messing around for many years, they would only know some characters, but wouldnt be able to do anything, how could they get married in the future?

  There were not a few male students, divided into three classes. Every day in class, the female teacher stood on the podium, the male students sat at their desks, and every window was packed with villagers. Several nearby villages took turns coming, batch after batch, all men. They said they came to see if their sons, nephews, or younger brothers were paying attention in class, but their eyes couldnt leave the podium.

  The female teacher deliberately avoided looking at the window, occasionally accidentally glancing over, always blushing. Their faces were very pale, and they would flush easily.

  At that time, this place had never seen pencils and pens. As soon as they recognized the characters, they used brushes to grind ink. The boys hands and faces were all covered with ink marks.

  "Look, youve written it crooked again!" The female teacher guided the boys hand as he wrote with a brush pen, softly scolding him.

  Actually, the boy wasnt looking at the words, but at the teachers long eyelashes. How can they be so long and keep trembling? When the teacher scolded him, he came back to his senses and started writing, but his pen was still shaking.

  The adults in several villages were all discussing where these female teachers came from. They said they were the young ladies of wealthy families, so where were their "wealthy families"? Why didnt they ever go back home? Why didnt their parents come to visit them either? At this age, shouldnt they be getting married? Hadnt they promised someone else?... These questions, not even the village head knew, and could only ask the township head. The township head smiled and said: "Dont think about it anymore, Im also unclear." But from his smile, it seemed like he knew something.

  No one dared to ask the teacher herself. They were like a group of fairies descending upon the mortal world, shrouded in clouds and mist, making it impossible to see them clearly. At first, it was the men who were enchanted, followed by the women, who were even more captivated than the men, their infatuation deeper, thicker, and longer-lasting. The women almost daily gazed at the female teachers hairstyle, clothing, waistline, and gait with a dazed expression. As they drew closer, they scrutinized her smile, her calm demeanor, and her voice. After taking in all of this, they would whisper to themselves, wondering how these women, who were also females, could be so well-read and have food on the table wherever they went. The women thought that they had not only been dwarfed by half a head but had been buried underground entirely. However, the women did not complain, feeling fortunate to be able to stick their heads out from under the ground and catch a glimpse of these fairy-like creatures.

  In the primary school, there was an old woman who cooked for the female teachers, but this old woman also came from outside and didnt like to talk, even if she spoke, it wasnt clear. So, how the female teachers ate, no one knew.

  One day in early summer, a female teacher bought a bunch of newly marketed bayberries at the market near the elementary school and walked back to school with them wrapped in a handkerchief. It seemed that she didnt even run into anyone on the way, but the next morning, every student brought a big bag of bayberries to class, filling several teachers desks with the red fruit. These villages were nestled at the foot of a mountain, and every household had bayberry trees; yesterdays news had finally spread, and it quickly got around: the female teacher was willing to eat bayberries.

  For a table full of bayberries, the female teacher insisted on going to thank them. On Sunday morning, they walked out of the school gate and entered the village with a gentle swaying gait. Every house had its door open, but there was no one inside. Finally, they asked an elderly old woman, who said that the whole village had gone into the mountains to pick bayberries. Following the old womans pointing hand, they walked into a mountain pass.

  Its all trees, the hillside and valley are full of Yangmei trees, but no houses or people can be seen. The female teacher looked around, unsure what to do, when suddenly she heard shouting from the trees. One voice triggered many others, all calling out "Teacher", but still no one could be seen.

  "Teacher, the bayberries at my home are particularly good, come here quickly!"

  "Our familys just ripened yesterday, on the mountain slope two zhangs away from your right hand!"

  "This years sweetest is our home, teacher, the one waving on the west slope is me!"

  ……

  The female teachers laughed and turned around in confusion. The more they turned, the louder the shouting became.

  The shouting children are all on the tree, and it takes some time to get down from the tree and down the slope. Finally, they fly to the female teachers like little birds, behind them are their mothers. The mothers want to stretch out their hands to pull the female teachers, but the female teachers take the initiative to hold hands with them.

  That day on Yangmei Mountain, the female teacher and village women talked a lot, laughed a lot, and ate a lot. The village women did not expect the female teacher to be so easy-going and enthusiastic. Finally, one of the village women pulled the female teacher aside and asked: "Does your elementary school accept female students?"

  "Get it! Get it!" Several female teachers all rushed to say.

  "I have a niece who lives in Shannan Town. Pan Mugong once made a signboard for their family. The other day, Pan Mugong built a school gate for your school and brought her to play. After she went back, she kept asking to come to school every day," the village woman said.

  "Shannan Town? Is it far?" the female teacher asked.

  "Its not too far away, but you have to climb mountains to get in and out. The trouble is that if you come to school, you have to get up early and stay up late, climbing up and down, freezing and sweltering, all by yourself," the village woman said.

  "In two days, you take us to Shannan Town for a trip, okay?" said the female teacher.

  Six

  The female teachers trip to Shannan Town brought in the first female student at the primary school, named He Ying.

  She has a hard time coming to school, every day she has to climb over the mountain twice. Especially in winter, the whole mountain is covered with snow, and the road is icy, its easy to slip and fall. Slipping on the mountain road is very dangerous.

  A female teacher came up with an idea, letting He Ying wear a red scarf when crossing the mountain. The female teacher said: "As long as you cross the mountain, I can find you by relying on the red scarf and stare at you. If you fall, I will see it and think of ways to help you."

  He Yings mother said: "This is a good idea, when you go up the mountain, come back and see me."

  Then, this river English a good trip. Just escaped from the gaze of her mother on that mountain slope, she was thrown into the gaze of the teacher on this mountain slope. Every winter morning, she is a moving red dot on the snowy ridge, under the care of two women, up to heaven and down to earth.

  In fact, there were far more than two women.

  On this side of the mountain, the boys were still reluctant to get out of bed, and on a cold winter morning, their quilts were a paradise that children found hard to part with. Their mother had urged them several times in vain, so she turned her gaze to the snowy mountains outside the window.

  "Look!" Mother finally called out cheerfully, and the boy also poked his head out of the quilt. They all saw it - a red dot on top of Snow Ridge. The sky and earth were both so clean and white that this red dot was particularly eye-catching. It broke through the snowy ridge and pulled up all the boys who had been hiding under their quilts.

  He Yings going to school became a model. After that, many girls came to school, and their academic performance was better than that of boys. Two years later, the proportion of female students in primary schools reached one-third. Male teachers also transferred several. The school is getting more and more like a school, living up to the gate built by Pan Mugong, which looks like a very good school gate.

  Seven

  I finished elementary school at the age of nine and didnt understand things about my childhood. I only remembered many unforgettable fragments, but couldnt connect them together.

  It wasnt until I grew up and read a foreign article that it was like a thunderbolt, suddenly enlightened, sitting stupidly for half a day, with endless thoughts.

  That piece is called "Hot Ice", and it tells a story like this:

  A young woman followed two youths to row a boat. When the boat reached halfway, the two youths began to make indecent advances towards her and tore her top apart. She jumped into the water without hesitation, capsizing the small boat. The two youths swam back to shore, while she was entangled by the stems of the lotus leaves and trapped in the mud, losing her life.

  Her father carried back his half-naked daughters body, in painful madness, and sealed her still-unstiffened body into the cold storage.

  The old nun in the village wrote a letter to the Pope, suggesting that this frozen virgin girl be canonized as a saint.

  She really showed up. One time, a young man got drunk and mistakenly entered the cold storage room. When he woke up from his drunkenness, the door of the cold storage room was already locked. He saw this piece of ice: "It turned out that what was frozen inside was a girl. He clearly saw her beautiful hair, which was not only golden but also sparkling like candles placed behind glass windows in winter, emitting a warm yellow glow. Her bare chest was exposed, and it looked particularly clear in the ice layer. She was a beautiful girl, as if she were sleeping, yet not quite asleep, but rather like a traveler who had just arrived in the city and got lost.

  As a result, this young man felt hot and steamy with this ice block, and he withstood the cold in the refrigerator.

  Finally, two young men secretly entered the cold storage and pushed out the ice block with a small cart. In the faint morning light, they ran rapidly. The two young men were sweating profusely as they carried a completely thawed-out girl and rushed towards the lake, running faster and faster, as if to send her far beyond the horizon.

  I believe that after reading the previous narrative of this article, friends will not find it difficult to understand why this article has such a strong impact on me.

  I think this girl being canonized as a saint after her death is similar to Chinese women being approved to establish a chastity arch after their death.

  But whether you are a saint or a Bodhisattva, maiden, are you really dead?

  Fortunately, there was this father who secretly froze his still-limp daughter in ice. And so, this piece of ice also became "hot ice", hiding signs of life and disguising infinite possibilities.

  In the ice house, this girl is still beautiful. Even more beautiful.

  Hence, I couldnt help but have serious doubts ——

  Why are there so many women who committed suicide in their hometowns with chastity arches, but their tombs are empty? I suspect that they actually did not commit suicide, but were secretly relocated by their fathers.

  Those wealthy families, from top to bottom, are all waiting for a funeral to turn into two funerals. So the small boat in the middle of the night, the simple luggage, the empty coffin, the elaborate funeral... everything is tacitly understood. However, the loud wailing of the parents is real, with tears dripping onto their white hair and beard. They will never see their daughter again, nor do they know where she will end up.

  I suspect that such a midnight boat is more likely to be carrying elopers than survivors. The fiancé is not dead, but the fiancée has "died suddenly", been "kidnapped" or gone "missing"...

  Under the dim moonlight, it was always Father who saw off the small boat. Because Mother had bound feet and found it hard to walk, and he feared she would burst into tears by the riverbank. Father rarely spoke, his footsteps light and quick as he walked towards the small boat. His expression was exactly the same as that foreign father who locked up his daughter in an icehouse.

  Chinas small boat did not seal into the ice cellar, so, after all, rowed to which desolate lake, which small river?

  I suspect that Pan Mugong, the stonemason who built the archway, has already guessed eight or nine out of ten. At first, when he heard from a young stonemason that all the graves were empty, why did he ask so anxiously? When he came to the abandoned nunnery for the first time, why did he look around and say little, constantly smoking? Why did he volunteer to build a stone gate similar to an archway for the primary school?

  I gradually came to understand why our countryside has so many silent archways, yet so many beautiful strangers come flooding in - the beauty of nuns, the beauty of female teachers.

  I gradually came to understand why the female teachers were so eager to recruit female students, even if it meant crossing mountains and rivers.

  He Ying, a red dot on the snowy ridge, just like that bundle of icy golden hair.

  The frozen blonde was finally pushed out of the ice house by two modern youths with a small cart, and the girl had completely thawed in the faint morning light. A group of black-haired Chinese girls did not rely on others carts, they thawed themselves, thawing in the quiet that lurked everywhere.

  These beautiful oriental women also thawed one village after another, thawed one mountain ridge after another, and thawed a large number of boys and girls.

  I have decided that the faint morning light that quietly appears when the earth is still asleep is related to "The List of Missing Women in Chinese History". However, this list is a mystery of mountains and rivers, a secret of years. It has no trace, no symbol, no words, but it is remembered by heaven and earth.

  I only know that I myself came from that thawed village.