I'm 25 and felt suffocated by city life — so I spent 2 months in a youth retirement village in China

• Ren Binglin, 25, is a photographer and digital nomad based in China.
• While browsing online, he came across a retirement village for young people and booked a two-month visit.
• He picked fruit, meditated, and drank beers with new friends. He says his experience in the mountains changed him.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Ren Binglin, a photographer and digital nomad based in China. Ren spent almost two months at a youth retirement village. The following has been translated and edited for length and clarity.

A few days of work in Beijing was all it took for me to realize I needed a break.

In early September, I was finding everything in the capital city too expensive. City life was suffocating me.

I was born in Henan — a province 400 miles south of the capital — but now, at 25, I'm a digital nomad, and there's no longer one part of the country that feels like home. I live in a mix of hostels, bed and breakfasts, and even rented a house from a farmer once. I also try to spend a few weeks a year back with my family.

I love different parts of China for different reasons. I like the climate of Dali, the wooden houses of Shaoxing, my friends in Taihang Mountain, the mornings in Yangshuo, and the nights in Shanghai.

One morning, I started searching for places I could visit up in the mountains. I came across Guanye, a youth retirement village, on Xiaohongshu, China's Instagram-like platform. It was clear it had nothing to do with caregiving or elders, just a lot of nature.

I was intrigued by the pictures of mountains, a swimming pool, and people around my age cooking, hiking, and watching films. I felt I'd get along with them. By noon that same day, I had left.

I bought a train ticket for just over 10 yuan, or $1.38, from Beijing. The village is in Hebei, about 180 miles southwest of Beijing, and the train ride to Baijian, the closest station, took around three hours.

My room at the home

Soon after arriving, I was shown to my room. All of the rooms had mountain views. Mine had floor-to-ceiling windows, a 1.8-meter-long bed, a fridge, a bathroom, and a TV. The TV stayed off for the whole stay.

The room was cheap: 3,600 yuan, or $500, a month, including food and accommodation. It was a courtyard house with rooms surrounding a yard, and the space was around 2,150 square feet.

As a photographer, my income isn't stable. There are times I have nothing coming in for two weeks, but then in one day, I can make enough to cover the month.

The difference between life in the city and life up in the mountains was huge. The quiet in the village was a luxury for me. Sometimes, in the morning, I would hear the sound of goats eating grass. It was wonderful to be woken up that way.

Guests were mostly Gen Zers and Millennials

Most of the people at the nursing home were between 20 and 30 — I'm 25. I also came across a handful of people in their 40s and 50s.

I didn't need to put in much effort to meet interesting people. There was a natural flow that attracted all kinds of guests. The managers treated me like a friend, not a customer.

I wasn't the typical guest. Most people go there to "lie flat" for a while before gradually returning to work. It's a bit like a short vacation for them. However, I was still working.

I enjoy my work, so this didn't bother me. I work in AI photography, customizing work for clients and also teaching students. I do a lot of it online.

Most people I spoke to at the home had encountered a setback in life, in their career, in their love life, or with family members. I met a lawyer who told me he was tired of being busy and had started to live a nomadic life, but due to the requirements of his job, he often had to go to court.

I also spoke to one of the founders, Cui Kai, a lot. He turned 30 this year but gives off the feeling of still being in middle school. There was no greasiness to him.

I asked another cofounder why he had chosen to run the nursing home in his hometown. He said he grew up in the village, and the courtyards belonged to a relative of his. He said his grandparents were around 95 now, and he wanted to spend more time with them.

I could see that the village was very poor and that the young people had left to find work. All I saw were older people playing mahjong every day. That cofounder said he didn't want to abandon his hometown. He wanted to build it up.

Our daily routine

For breakfast, they served eggs, steamed buns, rice, millet porridge, and flatbreads. At noon, there was chicken and beef, stir-fried potatoes and beans, and cabbage. An auntie would cook for us.

They often organized activities like picking persimmons or chestnuts, hiking, or meditation exercises in the morning. I heard that in the summer, they swim, watch movies, or drink together.

I participated most in the drinking-related activities. Sometimes we'd go to the river, collect wood to make a fire, and drink and chat. For my birthday, I remember around 25 of us drinking together, cracking jokes, and snacking on nuts, dried fruit, and cake. We went through so many crates of beer. There was baijiu, a Chinese liquor, too.

I think this home helps people recharge. In the city, costs are high, and some people are unhappy with their jobs. I find it difficult to establish deep connections with people. It's as if we live for others and wear a mask.

The experience changed me

I spoke to other guests who work in the city, and they told me their energy levels increased after going to the mountains. With more physical space, I felt like I had more psychological space.

Going to Guanye changed me a little, but not as much as some of the other people I met. I've managed to keep my life less intense over the past few years.

Recently, I caught up with some people I'd met at Guanye. We went to see a movie together. I found them to be different from when we first met. They were more reserved. It seemed that once they moved back to the city, they hid their true selves.