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Economy

Field of Dreams

Despite lingering social stigma around returning to the countryside, a small but growing number of college graduates are taking up farming. While most are still digging themselves out of debt, some are beginning to see growth – and hope for a rural future

By Xu Ming Updated Nov.1

Zan Qiqi shows off his apples as he expects a bumper harvest this year, in his orchard in Tongchuan, Shaanxi Province, August 1, 2024 (Photo by Xu Ming)

Cheng Pengbo inspects his cornffeld in his hometown of Weinan, Shaanxi Province, July 31, 2024 (Photo by Xu Ming)

Every morning, 25-year-old Qiao Shouyuan wakes to the sound of roosters.  

During summer, he works in the fields before it gets too hot, returns home for lunch and rests before resuming work in the baking afternoon heat. 

In 2023, Qiao, a college graduate from Shangqiu, Henan Province, left his urban life behind and embraced a different path – farming. 

Together with a friend, Qiao rented 15 mu (1 hectare) in a mountainous village in Xingyang, Henan Province. They grow fruits, vegetables, grain and a variety of protein-rich plants – alongside chickens, geese and goats. 

They chose Xingyang because of the lower land rent. Also, Qiao prefers being in a place where nobody knows him, to avoid gossip in his home village. His decision to farm surprised his parents, farmers who made tremendous sacrifices to send him to college and still hope he will find a city job. 

But Qiao wants to prove that young people from rural backgrounds can live well without having to “beg for jobs” in the city. 

Qiao is part of a small but growing group of college-educated Chinese who are returning to rural areas to farm. Some have a passion for farming, believing it a better solution to their problems, while others hope to bring positive changes to the countryside using their acquired knowledge.
 
In recent years, increased competition for fewer urban jobs amid the ongoing economic slowdown and rising costs of living have also been decisive factors. 

The Ministry of Agriculture and Rural Affairs estimates there were more than 17 million “new modern farmers”– characterized by good educational backgrounds, technical knowledge and management skills – as of November 2020. About 22 percent of them held college degrees in 2023, up from 19 percent by the end of 2022. 

By 2025, the number of people returning to run agriculture-related businesses, ranging from livestream sales to tourism, is expected to exceed 15 million, according to the ministry.
 
Given the high-risk, low-return nature of agriculture, success is far from guaranteed. Many college-educated “new modern farmers” interviewed revealed they are still in debt, and only a few have turned sustainable profits. 

Another major challenge is social stigma. In China, farming is traditionally seen as a last resort, ranking at the bottom of the social hierarchy. For farmers’ children, attending college is viewed as the only – and often costly – way to escape this life. 

Families often oppose the decision to return to farming, considering it a step backward – even for students in agriculture-related majors, as most aim for white-collar jobs after graduation.

Farm Fresh Starts
Qiao studied animal husbandry at the Henan University of Animal Husbandry and Economy. Like many of his classmates, he did not turn to farming after graduation. 

Instead, he worked in IT in Shanghai, but quit after six months. He hoped to live closer to home, and wanted to use his expertise. Despite his parents’ disapproval, he returned to the fields. 

In 2023, Qiao and his business partner each made 70,000 yuan (US$9,846), about what they could make in the city. They now grow organic, pesticide-free produce and consult with agricultural experts to refine their methods. Qiao is hopeful their income will increase by 50 percent this year. 

Unlike Qiao, Mary Fan returned to farming with clear financial goals. In her 20s with a degree in finance from Southwestern University of Finance and Economics in Chengdu, Fan worked in a bank and ran two specialty shops in Kunming, Yunnan Province. But her businesses failed in 2019, putting her deep in debt. She turned to farming as a lifeline. 

She saw potential in a nutritious, low-fat variety of mini corn grown in her native Xishuangbanna, Yunnan Province, where it is known as “thumb corn.” Renting 1,000 mu (66.7 hectares) of land, she built a vacuum-packing plant in January to cut costs. Her farm has since doubled in size. 

But Fan’s parents did not speak to her for a month after she came back. As lifelong farmers, they knew the hardships of farming all too well. However, seeing her determination and progress in business, their attitudes shifted. 

Government policy has also shifted in favor of young farmers. Improvements in infrastructure through China’s rural revitalization efforts and e-commerce have made farming more viable. 

Subsidies, loans and training are available to young graduates. To date, nine million “new modern farmers” have received government-funded training, according to the Ministry of Agriculture and Rural Affairs. 

“Since the early 2010s, graduates have been encouraged to start businesses with loans up to 100,000 yuan (US$14,100),” said Cheng Pengbo, a farmer in Weinan, Shaanxi Province who studied agricultural machinery. “I’ve benefited from the policy too.” 

Cheng began farming right after graduation 11 years ago, a choice that initially drew strange looks from fellow villagers. “They’d say ‘Do you need to go to a college to be a farmer? Why did you go to college if you wanted to farm from the start?’” Cheng said with a wry smile. 

Early successes led Cheng to rent more land, expanding his farm to 100 mu (6.67 hectares). Deeply tanned, Cheng’s straightforward attitude shone through. “I’d rather squat in a field looking at my crops than sit in a bright and clean office,” he said, standing in his lush cornfield.

Farm workers employed by apple orchard owner Zan Qiqi walk after ffnishing their shift tending to the trees, Tongchuan, Shaanxi Province, August 1, 2024 (Photo by Xu Ming)

Qiao Shouyuan employs fellow villagers to plant strawberries in his greenhouse, Xingyang, Henan Province, August 2023 (Photo Courtesy of Qiao Shouyuang)

Qiao Shouyuan’s business partner Liu Fan harvests canola in July 2024 (Photo Courtesy of Qiao Shouyuan)

Sowing Seeds
Seventy-one percent of “new modern farmers” have improved farming techniques and boosted marketing in their regions, according to the Ministry of Agriculture and Rural Affairs. 

Among them is Zan Qiqi, a 30-yearold graduate of Northwest A&F University in Shaanxi who now runs an orchard with two former schoolmates. 

He saw his parents struggle as apple farmers, inspiring him to improve on traditional practices through his education. “I studied farming because I wanted to see whether the most advanced knowledge and technology could make farming easier,” he told NewsChina while walking his orchard in Tongchuan, Shaanxi Province. 

In 2017, Zan began planting a new variety of green apple called Ruixue. Developed by Zhao Zhengyang, a professor at his alma mater, the variety is easier to grow and has higher yields. Confident in the taste of Ruixue, he hopes it can compete with imported varieties, lamenting the lack of high-quality domestic apples. 

Zan’s orchard, located on a plateau at an altitude of over 1,000 meters, now spans 300 mu (20 hectares). It was funded initially by a startup loan for young entrepreneurs, as well as friends and family. 

“We’re one of the few graduates who took up farming after college, as our teachers had hoped,” Zan said. 

He noted that the Ruixue variety’s shorter trees and wider spacing allow greater access to machinery for applying fertilizer, spraying pesticide and weeding, significantly reducing the backbreaking labor involved in traditional orchard farming. 

Qiao, who was initially driven to succeed and prove himself to his parents, now feels a growing responsibility to revitalize his village. 

As one of the few young people left, he and his partner help elderly villagers during harvests and sell local produce on short-video platform Douyin. They invite agricultural experts to the village to conduct weekly classes, have set up test fields to identify the most suitable and profitable crops, and have brought in art students to beautify the village to attract tourists. 

All these young farmers share a similar desire to help their rural communities. “My village has an average education of junior high school level. I believe I can change things if I keep working hard,” Fan said. 

In his spare time, Cheng shares agricultural tips on Douyin and WeChat, hoping to help local farmers get better prices for their produce once he gains enough followers. 

“Today’s farming requires not only hard work but also modern knowledge and digital marketing,”Cheng said. 

However, he warned that farmers have little leverage over market prices, often having to sell produce prematurely to avoid spoilage, which compromises taste and customer satisfaction. 

“If sales channels are reliable and consumers are willing to wait, farmers would rather wait for [produce] to ripen and give consumers a better taste experience, creating a positive cycle,” Cheng said.

‘No Refuge’
For Fan, things started smoothly. But as more capital flowed into the market, she felt the pressure mounting. 

Farmland rents skyrocketed – six times higher than in 2019 – and the market became saturated, driving down corn prices. Between 2019 and April this year, she rarely got a full night’s sleep. “There’s too much pressure – from the market, society and my parents. I’d often work until 2 or 3 am, and then get up to tend the fields, Fan said. 

Last year, heavy rainfall impacted the quality of her crops, leaving her with 1.5 million yuan (US$211,600) in losses. But she has managed to break even this year, earning about 300,000 yuan (US$41,000), higher than the local average, and has nearly paid off her loans. 

Still in debt, Cheng has learned to adopt a more realistic perspective. “Farming is fraught with risk, from weather and market shifts to policy changes and technology. Any one of them can be fatal.” 

In the winter of 2017, heavy snow destroyed his plastic greenhouses, leading to another 500,000 yuan (US$70,535) loss. Two years later, excessive autumn rainfall ruined his 30 mu (2 hectares) of peaches, forcing him to sell at a loss of about 500,000 yuan (US$70,535). 

“Income from farming is uncertain,” said Cheng, who has experimented with a wide variety of crops. Since 2019, he has been cautious about investing in fixed assets like equipment. “I realized farming alone wouldn’t turn things around,” he added. 

Cheng warns young people to be prudent when choosing farming as a career. “It’s naïve to think investing several hundred thousand yuan in farming will make a fortune. Today’s farming requires big investment in fixed assets, seeds, fertilizers, labor, etc. It’s a high-investment, low-profit trade with a long payback period,” Cheng said. 

He does not encourage friends or relatives to engage in farming and suggests young people be prudent when making the choice: “If they’re interested in the countryside, perhaps farming-related industries would be a better choice.” 

During the interview, Cheng’s 4-yearold son was playing with his wife in another room. Cheng expressed gratitude for his wife’s patience over the years. Unlike most couples in their village, they haven’t bought an apartment in the county town. “I just hope for an ordinary life where my son can receive a better education in the county,” Cheng said. 

In late August, a hailstorm nearly hit Zan Qiqi’s orchard, an increasingly common risk as extreme weather events become more frequent. 

Despite his background in agronomy, which focuses on field crop production and soil management, the challenges have been immense. He and two friends pooled over 1 million yuan (US$141,070) to fund their orchard’s first few years, but the money quickly dried up. He borrowed more whenever possible, and his parents helped however they could. 

Zan said his lowest point was when half of his seedlings died his first year, caused by bad soil stacking around the roots of the plants. “Every detail, from seed selection and field management to pest and disease control, affects the final outcome,” said Zan, who is already graying, though only in his 30s. 

In 2023, Zan also battled apple scab, a fungus that infects both leaves and fruit. Persistent rains helped it spread. Even after spraying fungicide through the night, the blight halved his output and caused over 1 million yuan (US$141,070) in losses. 

“Despite advanced technology... farmers like us are still at the mercy of the weather,” he said. Zan began selling apples in 2022, and is currently 1.5 million yuan (US$205,500) in debt. 

Liao Hong, a farmer from Hunan Province, reduced her farmland by 100 mu (6.7 hectares) in 2023 after a series of setbacks and over 2 million yuan (US$274,000) in investments. “We started all over again, back to selecting seeds. The follow-on investment cost another 400,000 yuan (US$56,428),” Liao said. 

A lively woman in her early 40s, Liao previously managed a restaurant and a wet market in Hunan’s capital of Changsha. She decided to return to the countryside in 2019, planting 260 mu (17 hectares) of snake gourd. But droughts, blizzards and lack of experience taught her painful lessons. “Farming is much more complicated than doing businesses in cities,” she said. 

Cheng summed it up: “The countryside is no refuge... Here, your efforts might not be rewarded. Enthusiasm alone isn’t enough.”

Harvesting Hope
In many places, the return of young people to rural areas has revitalized villages, improved farming efficiency with technology, and boosted agricultural sales through the internet. They have also created jobs, increasing villagers’ incomes. 

Zan spent 800,000 yuan (US$112,870) a year alone on labor, for jobs like bagging and picking apples. Cheng spends about 200,000 yuan (US$28,218) annually employing fellow villagers. 

Still, going back to the countryside remains “a minority choice,” said Gui Hua, a sociology professor at Wuhan University with a research focus on rural areas. “The threshold is low, so competition is fierce,” Gui told NewsChina. 

He suggests that while local governments can offer assistance like tax breaks and small loans, such support should be moderate. “Encouraging a trend of returning to the countryside could lead to waste of resources [like talent and investment],” Gui said. “The success rate for startups is so low.” 

Cheng told NewsChina that he has seen many peers fail. One classmate lost nearly 1 million yuan (US$141,070) in five years, money he borrowed from a bank and his father. He became a contractor and opened a supermarket to repay the debt. 

Reflecting on his own journey, Zan joked that he and his two partners were naïve to think that 1 million yuan (US$141,070) could fund a 300-mu (20 hectares) orchard. But now with years of experience under his belt, he is more optimistic. In 2023, they harvested just 20 tons of apples. This year, he expects 150 tons. 

Zan is also focusing on building a brand for his apples. They have expanded planting Ruixue to about 400 farmers across Luochuan, Shaanxi, a major apple producing area, setting quality standards and providing farmers with technical assistance. “Standardization is key to branding,” Zan said. 

Cheng, who has struggled with melon sales due to a market downturn this summer, has reset his greenhouse for vegetables, giving him new hope. Cheng admits he has his moments of regret when profits are low, but remains determined, having declined a few job offers from local seed and fertilizer companies. “I just can’t quit without a satisfactory result,” he said. 

While Cheng complained that some subsidies, like government-funded greenhouses, go to people who end up wasting them, he has noticed some positive changes: younger, more action-oriented officials, better infrastructure in his village, and increasing numbers of followers on his social network accounts – changes that motivate him to continue. 

“I’ve fallen into every pit possible so I can avoid them in the future. I believe I can do better,” Cheng said. 

Liao, too, has come to terms with the long payback cycle of farming. She has shifted focus to promoting agricultural products and tourism in nearby towns and villages through her social media presence. 

“Farming might not generate immediate profits for me, but looking back 10 years from now, what I’m doing might be valuable to society,” Liao said. Despite the difficulties, she is glad she returned five years ago. 

“I’ve grown a lot. As I explore the land, I’m also exploring my own potential,” Liao said.

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