Business of fragrance blooms in rural villages, enhancing profits and lifestyle
Editor's note:
Rural revitalization is a growing trend across China, as the country explores a symbiotic growth of cities and villages, promoting common prosperity for everyone. This series explores how "rurbanomics" – an approach that emphasizes the interrelatedness of rural and urban economies – may work in a metropolis like Shanghai.
Local farmers till the land of a famous flower farm at Daijing Village in suburban Shanghai's Jinshan District.
For 72-year-old Zhu Maoyun, a new life begins after retirement.
"In addition to my rural pension, I now earn 100 yuan (US$15) a day, all year round, by tending the 'blossom sea'," he said with a smug smile. "That's more than enough for me."
The "blossom sea" he mentioned is part of a 40-hectare ecological park converted from a former low-yield cropland in Daijing Village in southern Shanghai's Jinshan District.
Since its opening in 2016, the flower-themed Huakai Haishang Ecological Park has helped many local farmers like Zhu increase their incomes with its tourism revenue. Huakai Haishang literally means "flowers blooming by the sea" in Chinese.
'Town of fragrance'
Zhu was plowing the flower land with a forked hoe when I met him by chance on February 3, one day before lichun, or the start of spring, a solar term in traditional Chinese calendar. It's usually a time to prepare the farmland for spring crops.
Along with a fellow farmer about his age, Zhu was tilling one soil ridge after another, sweating in the sunset.
"Hey, you seem to be loosening the soil," I went up to him and struck up a conversation. "What is it for?"
He turned around, straightened his back, and squinted at me as the slanting sun cast his long shadow on the land behind him.
"We just till the land, keeping the ridges in shape and loosening their soil, and then other people will come and sow flower seeds," he explained.
"Where are you from?" he quipped back. Apparently I was not a local farmer, nor a regular visitor. Now is not the best season to see lots of flowers. Other than the plum blossoms that started to sprout, there were few flowers in the vast field the day I was there.
"I came from Zhaoxiang Town, Qingpu District," I replied.
"That's far from here," he mulled in amusement.
"I drove one hour non-stop on the highway," I said. "I decided to come here because I had just read a news report saying a 'town of fragrance' is taking shape on the basis of your ecological park, which is to be modeled upon France's Grasse."
"I've heard of that," he nodded. "I don't know about the details, but our flower business will certainly be expanded. It's good for us."
"How good is it?" I asked curiously.
Resting his left arm on the tip of the hoe handle, he explained: "In this time of the year, I mainly till the land. In warmer seasons, when many flowers are in full blossom, I tend them with irrigation, pruning and weeding. I already have pension to cover my basic life in retirement, but thanks to our expanding floral business, I still work all year round and get additional pay."
"And it's not just about money," he added. "I get up at 5am and start to work in the field at 8am. I call it a day at sunset. It's a healthy way of life, and even now I can easily shoulder 100 kilograms. To think I'm already 72 years old."
Zhu Maoyun, 72, a local farmer in Daijing Village, enjoys his work in the field.
Zhu says he is happy tending the flower farm, which brings him additional income as well as a healthy way of life.
He isn't the only local farmer who has benefited from the booming floral business. In an earlier report, People's Daily said more than 100 local villagers – old and young – work in the ecological park and get additional pay, on top of their regular income.
From poverty to prosperity
The floral story dates back to 2015, when Daijing Village, tucked away in the westernmost part of Zhujing Town, Jinshan District, decided to turn some of its low-lying and low-yield cropland into an ecological park based on various flower farms, to attract urban visitors, while sprucing up the rural landscape.
From 2016 when it first opened to the public to 2020, before COVID-19 broke out, the park attracted more than 1 million tourists, People's Daily reported.
"Sometimes we attracted nearly 10,000 tourists a day," a veteran technician responsible for field management and seed sowing told me on February 3. I met him when he was teaching two young ladies how to prepare Gypsophila seeds for the season.
Two young ladies prepare Gypsophila seeds to be sown in the field.
A farmer spreads Gypsophila seeds at the flower farm in Daijing Village.
Shanghai Observer, a leading news portal based in Shanghai, reported on January 29 that Zhujing's future "town of fragrance," which spans 253 hectares with the current ecological park as its core, will be modeled upon Grasse and provide tourists with upmarket inns and opportunities to appreciate organic perfume.
According to a latest plan from Zhujing, the future "town of fragrance" will provide 1,500 more jobs, in addition to about 100 now available at the flower-themed ecological park.
The story of Daijing Village is one about how a previously poor village in suburban Shanghai has morphed into a "cash cow" by transforming part of its otherwise low-yield arable land into a "sea of flowers." Indeed, Daijing used to be the "poorest" village in Zhujing Town, where some plots of low-yield land had once laid idle. Now, the village's quiet evolution into a "flower sea" meshes well with Shanghai's overall strategy to build itself into a hub of floral business by 2025.
A photo of flowers in full blossom at Daijing Village
Above and below: The flower farm at Daijing Village is being plowed in preparation for warmer seasons when more flowers will bloom to attract tourists near and far.
Flowers link city and countryside
While Daijing Village thrives as a floral business center, mainly because of its rustic environment conducive to ecological diversity, Yangjiazhuang Village in Qingpu District, about 50 kilometers to the north of Daijing, stands to become a "flower valley" owing largely to its geographic advantage – it's close to one of the city's leading business areas – Hongqiao International Central Business District. Hongqiao Transportation Hub, a domestic and international traffic artery, is also nearby.
When the 6.25-square-kilometer Daijing Village built a flower-themed ecological park in 2016, Yangjiazhuang Village, which spans about 5 square kilometers, set aside a piece of land for the growth and trade of flowers and trees in the same year. About 120 families, more than half of which are local, have been involved in tending the 20-hectare land of various flowers and trees.
A beautiful skyline cut by well-pruned trees at a flower and plant base at Yangjiazhuang Village, Qingpu District
Local official sources reveal that, after a few years of development, Yangjiazhuang's annual floral business turnover has surpassed 100 million yuan. That's a rare achievement for an average village.
Building on this momentum, the village plans to expand its current floral business to become a major flower trade center in the future, supported by more convenient bank services, among others.
At the end of last year, the Hongqiao Flower Valley – a major city-level project – broke ground in the village, involving a total investment of 150 million yuan. As part of the project, a 20,000-square-meter flower trade and exhibition center will be built soon.
When I first visited Yangjiazhuang Village on January 31, new steel frames for future greenhouses and certain other buildings were being erected on a large piece of riverside land, separated by a rural boulevard from the current flower greenhouses.
On the spot, I searched my mobile driving map and found I was 15 kilometers away from the Hongqiao Railway Station and 13 kilometers from the Hongqiao International CBD. Quite close. No wonder the "valley of flowers" is named after Hongqiao.
A middle-aged man greeted me as I entered the existing floral business area, where a myriad of potted flowers were neatly displayed in greenhouses, while pines, camellia trees, olive trees and whatnot stood outdoors.
"Hey, which flower sells best in this season?" I asked him.
"Many," he answered briefly, smiling like an emoji. "You could have primrose or rosemary, for example."
I scanned his stock. Most were affordable for an average customer. A small pot of primrose or rosemary costs 5 yuan. It's a wholesale price, even for an individual customer.
As I looked around, a young woman enthusiastically "grabbed" five pots of lavender at a good bargain. A young man came later and bought two pots of clivia miniata. He then brought in his own big porcelain pot and put the two green plants together. Then came a mother and her daughter, who stooped to smell different flowers before deciding which to buy.
At last, I bought a pot of Lewisia flower, with succulent leaves and white petals, and a pot of Burro's Tail (sedum morganianum), a jade-green succulent plant.
"Lewisia is said to be good for a harmonious family life," the middle-age man told me, cracking a joke based on a popular saying on the Internet. I hadn't heard of that, but anyway I bought it out of an intuitive inclination toward elegant petals. It cost me 15 yuan. The Burro's Tail cost me 30 yuan – the shop owner deducted 5 yuan from the original price out of good will. As I paid for my flowers, three giggling girls hailing from a nearby town each picked a pot of Lewisia with red petals.
Mr Hou, a flower farmer in his 50s, prepares to plant a handful of Lewisia flower in a bigger pot for the author of this article.
After most customers left, I had a casual chat with the middle-aged shop owner, who identified himself with his family name Hou. He said he and his wife came from Shaanxi Province in northwest China, and settled here in 2016.
They've rented a 600-square-meter greenhouse in the village, and live in a rental apartment adapted from a nearby farmer's house.
"My wife and I usually get up at 5am and receive our first batch of customers at 6am, who are mostly owners of downtown flower shops," he said. "We won't have a rest until after 6pm. We even have customers from nearby provinces like Jiangsu, because Yangjiazhuang Village is host to one of Shanghai's most popular flower fairs, and is located near Jiangsu Province."
I was glad to see Hou and his wife, both clad in casual winter coats, were busy and happy about their "fragrant" business. Although they are not locals, they have contributed to the village's overall economy with a brisk floral business.
I went to see Hou and his wife again on February 8. This time I arrived a bit earlier, and happened to meet a man who came from Putuo District in downtown Shanghai on a rickshaw to buy flowers and mini-trees for his own flower shop.
"How long did it take you to get here in a rickshaw?" I asked, as he was paying for his collection that had swelled his rickshaw.
"Oh, mine is an electric one, it took me about two hours," he said. "I used to buy flowers in nearby Zhejiang Province, but now Yangjiazhuang looks fine and is closer."
After saying goodbye to them, I went deeper into the village and climbed up a small mount with a 45-degree slope. I read from a recent news report that this place used to be a dumping ground for sundry wastes, but now it has become a nifty hill planted with various trees, shrubs and bushes. On the small hill, I had a panoramic view of the existing 20 hectares of greenhouses and outdoor grounds for tree cultivation.
A panoramic view of flower greenhouses from a small hill at Yangjiazhuang Village, which was selected as one of Shanghai's 46 "beautiful villages" in 2022.
What a change flowers can make to the landscape and income of a village. Large plots of rice and vegetables are still there, but a proper diversification into floral business, which is both more value-added and environmentally friendly, goes a long way toward reviving Shanghai's rural life, that's become ever more intertwined with the urban world. In many ways, flowers are a natural link between man and nature, the city and the countryside.
On my way back to Hou's shop, I saw a man standing on top of a ladder pruning a Spanish olive tree, which is expensive to my knowledge.
"Hey, how many olive trees can you sell a year?" I asked.
The man looked down at me, and said very slowly: "Several."
"Who are your customers?" I was even more curious.
"Individuals who hope to decorate their gardens," he explained. "Legend has it that olive trees represent peace and longevity."
He said he was satisfied with the sale of "several" olive trees a year, though it sounded like a slack business to me.
"You need to be patient with trees. You derive a lot of pleasure from just pruning them. If you love trees, you can make it in the long run," he said, with a full smile. "I've been in this trade for 30 years. Trees are a 'beautiful trade'."
The friendly "tree man," surnamed Sun, said he was 67 years old but his hair was all black.
"Be patient in the tree business," he repeated his motto. "It's about giving people peace and health."
Indeed, isn't the power to give people peace and health the very selling point of flowers and trees? Sun and Hou have different business models, but together, they are beautifying our life as well as their village's skyline and landscape.
Last month, the Shanghai government announced that Yangjiazhuang Village had been selected as one of the city's 46 "beautiful villages" in 2022. The floral business certainly made a contribution.
67-year-old Sun has been in the tree business for 30 years. He is pruning his Spanish olive tree in Yangjiazhuang Village.
