"My father was poor, and this house was his only legacy for me. I can't let these houses go," said Wang. "Many houses in the village have hundreds of years of history. In our religion, human beings have interaction with their houses. That's why we place our gods on the roof of the house and worship them."

As part of the city's 200-billion-yuan reconstruction project, each villager in Sanlong could get roughly 20,000 yuan if they get rid of the old damaged house and move to new apartments or newly built Qiang-style residences. But if they choose to stay and fix the old one, the villager would get only about 2,000 yuan, though repairs normally cost more than that.

For many, the benefit is so obvious that it is not an alternative. Many people left the village and moved away. Still, Wang chose to stay. He also paid from his pocket for some of the villagers to fix the old houses to make them stay.

"If you look at the history of our culture, we have earthquakes all the time," said Wang. "Our old houses were designed to withstand earthquake. There are some fissures on the walls after a quake, but those problems can be fixed.

"We appreciate the government's efforts, and its attempts to help us get a new life after the disaster. But I wish they would solve some problems in a different way. The new houses are not bad, but I like my old one," says Qiang expert Zhao Xingwu. He believes that the local authorities should put in more efforts to fix old houses and not simply demolish them.

"From the government's point of view, it is easier to demolish the old houses, and to manage and organize if you send the victims back to the same area," said Zhao. "However, the government-built Qiang houses are not the traditional ones, no mat-ter how similar they look. The taste of the original has gone," he said.

Lost architecture

Zhao believed that an old Qiang house is a piece of art. Those who labored on the houses had learned the building techniques from masters; and, that kind of work made every single Qiang house unique.

"Many skilled house builders are dead, and there are not many old Qiang houses left," Zhao said. "It's not something that is reproducible."

Wang wants five tons of cement from the local government, worth about 2,000 yuan, to help the villagers with maintenance. However, after two years, it's still an issue on the local government's 'to-do' list.

"He came to my office hundreds of times," said Yu Guangyuan, director of the Maoxian county cultural center, who is more senior than Wang. "My influence is too little. I can only take him to the bigger bosses to see if there is any solution. But it takes time for them to decide."

In Sanlong village, Ma Jinshun was embroidering a flower in the front of a dress. Born in this village, in the same house 62 years ago, she never left the place.

"I'm used to living here," Ma laughed, as she patted the wall. "This is solid, I'm not going any-where. My son chose to move to the city, but I don't want to. I don't know anyone there. Why should I go?"

Every night after dinner, Wang is used to going for a walk in the village. As he stepped out of his house, he bowed to the white stone on the roof as a mark of respect. "I have to keep our Qiang heritage alive and there is no choice. Our god is watch-ing me," he said.