On a little island bordering China's southern city of Foshan, Carson Chen has built a "temporary refuge" for young people like himself who are exhausted from urban life.
"I lived and worked under high pressure in various big cities for a long time," says the 29-year-old entrepreneur.
"Every day I commute between high-rise buildings, and it feels like life is both repetitive and disconnected from nature.
"I've always felt that nature can give me a sense of internal peace and I wanted to return to an environment that's closer to nature."
Mr Chen says he started travelling after quitting his job and encountered the island, named Ping Sha, by accident.
"The island is like a hidden gem from the world, only accessible by ferry," he says.
"There are about 5,000 residents and it has no industrial development at all.
"Everyone is a farmer and they grow many different types of fruits on the island, or raise livestock."
Mr Chen says he immediately felt it was a good place to establish a "youth nursing home" — a term that became popular on Chinese social media this year.
"It refers to a space for young people to rest, lying flat, take a gap and reflect about themselves," Mr Chen explains.
Lying flat is Chinese slang that refers to a mindset of doing minimal work and resting that emerged a few years ago as an informal social movement against China's relentless working culture.
Mr Chen says he rented a piece of land on the island and built a residence with a big yard, accommodating about five people at a time.
"We would write scripture copies, ride horses, meditate or listen to music together," he says.
"We also grow our own vegetables, cook, and just experience the simple details of everyday life."
The phrase "youth nursing home" has a big following on China's Instagram-like app Red — users have viewed the term nearly 10 million times.
Hundreds of such residences, usually situated in the countryside or villages, have emerged across China.
Most residents of his youth nursing home are short-term, ranging from a few days to a couple of months, Mr Chen says.
"For young people, you can't really be lying flat until you are old," he says.
"I see the space as a 'transit stop', for young people to rest temporarily and figure out what they really want for their lives."
In previous decades, the majority of China's internal migration had been from rural to urban.
But amid the country's economic downturn and rising competition for jobs, there is growing interest among young urban dwellers in migrating to rural regions.
In a survey of more than 2,000 youths by the state media Youth Daily last year, more than 70 per cent said the countryside was more attractive than cities.
The primary reasons were the slower pace of living, lower stress because of the less competitive lifestyle and cheaper living costs.
Reviving traditional culture
Aside from a temporary escape, some young people are seeing long-term potential in the countryside.
Georgia Guo and Lulu Wang were colleagues in China's high-tech city of Shenzhen, before they opted out for an "ancient town" located in the south-western province of Yunnan.
The town, named Weishan, is composed of residential buildings preserved from hundreds of years ago.
While it was historically a trading hub on the Silk Road, it is now mostly occupied by local farmers.
Their journey started when they fell in love with a traditional handicraft called "Jiama", a kind of religious woodcut print that originated from the culture of local ethnic minorities.
"At the start I was simply taking a gap year and travelling after being exhausted from my previous job," Ms Wang says.
"It was around 2020 when I first saw Jiama prints in Yunnan, and I was immediately attracted because its artistic style is very unique and interesting."
Ms Guo, who quit her job around the same time, was also attracted by the "rich history and culture" embodied in the craft.
"Local people believe in animism, the idea that everything has a soul," she explains.
"This evolved into many gods which they carve and print on Jiama, using them for prayers."
Ms Wang and Ms Guo decided to stay in the ancient town to learn more about the craft, as well as adapting it with their own creative designs.
"Weishan is a quiet and comfortable place with fresh air and blue sky. Things are cheap and local people are really nice," Ms Guo says.
"I think after COVID, people also realised you don't have to work at an office desk and many young people just prefer a freer lifestyle over stability," Ms Wang says.
"The town is also very convenient with wet markets, convenience stores and a post office — a kind of 'new village' that's different to the really remote and underdeveloped areas."
Drawing inspirations from Jiama patterns, the pair have designed their own products including tote bags, lanterns and scarfs.
The products are displayed in a physical store in Weishan, as well as being sold via social media.
"We were among the first 'outsiders' here, but now the town is flooded with people from everywhere," Ms Wang says.
"Most incomers are people in their mid-20s and onwards.
"They opened cafes, bars, hostels as there are more tourists coming in too."
China is in the midst of a rural tourism boom.
In the first quarter of 2024, a total of about 784 million tourists visited rural areas in China, more than in the corresponding periods of recent years, according to Statista.
New trend in a digital media age
Professor Haiqing Yu, a scholar of China's digital media at RMIT University, says the kind of urban-to-rural migration happening among a generation born and raised in the cities hasn't been seen before.
"[It is] pioneered by young people originally from the cities who are university graduates. This is new," he says.
Professor Yu says China's expansive internet infrastructure plays a key role in driving the trend.
"Internet connection is everywhere. The internet connectivity in the small villages is no different to Beijing."
And this had allowed young people to both share their lives and earn an income using digital media, Professor Yu says.
"I don't think it's the same as 'lying flat'. Many are very entrepreneurial and thinking about how to utilise local resources to create something new through the digital economy."
Videos portraying China's rural lives have also become a hit on social media.
One example is vlogger BiaoinChina, who has gained almost 700,000 TikTok followers for his videos on the daily routines of cooking in a rural village.
Professor Yu says migration to the regions also aligns with the government's agenda.
"China is currently going through an economic downturn, many university graduates can't get a job in the city," Professor Yu says.
"So the government calls on them to 'rejuvenise and revitalise the countryside', go to the small cities or countryside to find jobs.
"Local governments would provide preferential tax or business policies that encourages young people to come, sell the local artist crafts or local agricultural products through social media platforms."
But young people's moves are mostly organic rather than politically driven, she says.
"They're not just saying I'm going to the countryside because the party calls me — they are practically driven."
Helping to revitalise villages
Professor Yu says while the massive migration of people to urban areas in the past has left many Chinese villages "hollowed out", the inflow of young people may change that.
"The villages faced huge social problems … there is a lack of vitality. Young people can bring new skills, new ideas and new knowledge.
"However, we don't know how long they will stay."
But Mr Chen, Ms Guo and Ms Wang believe there is something more sustainable and long-term in their choices.
"The old kind of rural lives are limited to farming or herding, but digital media has created new opportunities," Mr Chen says.
"For example, what I'm doing helped the farmers to sell their products and brought more attention to the village."
"Our town has become quite commercialised now," Ms Wang adds.
"There is a mixture of local and outsiders' shops. A mixture of old and new things."
