A farmer who discovered a Flying Tigers plane in the mountains has been living in New York, but his hometown is prospering and beckoning. Zhu Zhou reports.

Never in a thousand years did Pan Qibin and Jiang Yumei dream their lives would have an American twist.

The farming couple lives at the foot of Cat Mountain (Mount Mao'er), which rises 2,141 meters above sea level in the northern swath of the Guangxi Zhuang autonomous region and is South China's highest peak. It is a place where hot winds rush north and cold ones drift south, creating rainy and foggy weather that lingers for days at a time.

On Oct 2, 1996, Pan Qibin decided to scout for medicinal herbs on the mountain with fellow villager Jiang Jun. As they set off early in the morning, they bumped into a woman who had recently married into the village. It was considered bad luck for men to encounter women on such expeditions, so Pan was anxious about what would happen to them.

By noon, they were deep in a gorge about 2,000 meters above sea level. The fog had dissipated, but they were not happy because they had not found many herbs. They climbed a tall tree to scout the surroundings so they could determine whether or not they should climb uphill. There was no road, and they had to hang onto wild bamboo if they did.

It was then that Pan spotted something glittering on a cliff.

"This is a pristine forest. What's this thing doing here?" he asked Jiang, who had also noticed the obviously manmade object.

They decided to get closer. But before they were able to take a few steps, Pan stumbled over some rusty metal. Soon, they were surrounded by what looked like machine parts. It was getting dark, so they decided to spend the night in the gorge.

Early next morning, they explored farther and found a giant wheel stuck between rocks. They realized it must be wreckage from an aircraft. Without further ado, they went back to the village to tell everyone what they had seen. Nobody believed them, so they had to trek back and obtain the evidence, which they took to the county town of Xing'an.

A few days later, local officials descended on the place. Pan and Jiang helped them collect and move the wreckage, which consisted of 12 pieces of the aircraft, 13 pieces of navigation equipment, seven propeller blades, some weaponry and human bones.

Later, they were informed that the plane belonged to the Flying Tigers, American airmen who helped China fight the Japanese invaders. It crashed on Aug 31, 1944, after returning from a bombing mission. All 10 crew members were killed. The youngest was 19 years old.

The story did not end there. On Jan 14, 1997, a news team was accompanying a Sino-US search team to look for more remains at the site when a woman reporter from Voice of America fell off a 10-meter cliff. It was a typical day on Cat Mountain with dense fog and drizzle.

"I didn't know how steep it was. I could not see anything. But I had to go down there," Pan recalls.

When he found the reporter, she was unconscious. Hard as it was to climb up a steep and slippery slope, Pan and the others had to carry her on their backs, inching up the mountain, while Jiang pulled a rope from above.

By the time they got to the nearest facility, where reporters had gathered, Pan had become a minor celebrity.

On March 19, 1997, former US president Bill Clinton wrote Pan a letter, thanking him for rescuing Stephanie Ho, the American reporter. However, he did not mention Pan's discovery of the wreckage.

Unfortunately, someone involved who did not know the correct pronunciation of Pan's name had misspelled it as Pan Qiwen.

That should have been the end of Pan's US connection, but someone enticed him to go there "for a look". When he went to apply for a visa, the visa officer recognized him and asked, "How many in your party?"

He went alone. He liked it so much that after a couple of return trips he found a job in the New York area, "renovating and fixing up people's places", as Jiang Yumei, Pan's wife, describes it.

"He hasn't been back in nine years," says Jiang Yumei, who opened a restaurant in their village in 2009 with money remitted by Pan.

They own the three-story, 500- square-meter house. They have benefited from the increasing number of tourists, especially during the summer months. Pan still lives in New York "but we have regular video chats," his wife says, adding, "His place is very small."

Someday, Jiang Yumei would like to visit the US herself.

"I don't plan to live there. Pan will also come back after making some more money."

Instead, she plans to live with her son in the city, after the 20-year-old graduates from college in the autonomous region's capital Nanning.

"I work six months and take it easy for the rest of the year, taking care of the land and other miscellaneous things," the 45-year-old says. "Life here is easy. My biggest dream used to be simple: to travel by plane and tour Beijing. Now, I don't have any dreams. We went through some hard times, but we never asked for help."

For what Pan did in 1996 and 1997, the Chinese government awarded him 7,000 yuan ($1,109).

"Life was hard when Pan first went to the US," she says, "but it never occurred to us to seek help from the VOA reporter or the son of the US airman who had visited the crash site to pay tribute to his father, with Pan as his guide." (Only one of the 10 airmen had children.)

Jiang Jun, the villager who was with Pan when he found the wreckage and rescued the American reporter, has not been so fortunate. His family is poor, and he has to take care of his ailing mother.

It took him 10 years to realize he could make US dollars like Pan. But when he applied for a US visa, he was turned down and was told by the visa officer that what he had done was "already history".

"Jiang is not the enterprising type. He is shy and doesn't know how to talk to others," the village chief says. "He didn't even leave home and become a migrant worker."

But life is becoming better for most villagers. Bamboo, an easily renewed resource, has been the source of income for many, and the village has 103 workshops producing bamboo products.

"Most people work nearby. Few leave for wealthier provinces," the village chief says.

That makes Pan, 48, an anomaly.

"Pretty soon, his wife will be making the same here as he does in New York - maybe more," the village chief says.