In March, Mituo Village
still lingers between winter and spring.

Some days are cold, with snow not yet melted on the ground;
other days are bright enough to work in short sleeves.

The weather keeps changing,
but the people never stopped.

Throughout the whole month, everyone has been preparing for the opening.
There was no clear beginning, and no moment that marked “completion.”

Only this—

Someone would come and do a bit,
and someone else would carry it forward.

On some days, the wind was still sharp.
Hands were cold, faces were cold.

But the work did not stop.
Trip by trip, things were carried.
Bit by bit, things were done.

No one waited for better weather.
Whoever came simply did what was in front of them.

The new doors of the chanting hall were installed together.
They were heavy—lifted little by little, aligned step by step,
until finally they stood firmly in place.

The incense burner and lamp stands were cleaned again and again,
slowly restored to how they once were.

The lodging areas were being organized,
the kitchen and dining hall gradually brought back into order.

In the yard, some planted flowers, others pulled weeds.
A place once quiet and empty slowly came to life.

Bags of 80-pound cement were carried up one by one;
electronic locks were adjusted again and again until they worked just right.

Some climbed onto rooftops,
some worked on the ground,
some drove forklifts,
while others crouched down, carefully fixing things.

These tasks may seem ordinary.
But it is exactly these ordinary things,
little by little,
that shaped Mituo Village into what it is today.

The changes of this past month
did not happen in a single day,
but were built from many unseen days,
quietly accumulated over time.

Spring will arrive soon.
Before it does,
someone has already walked the path ahead.

Today, we officially open the mountain.

Those unseen days
have now passed;
the road ahead
awaits more people to walk it together.

Mituo Village awaits you.