The word "seclusion" holds an inexplicable allure for city dwellers. Many have dreamed of casting aside everything to seek their own "Peach Blossom Spring," yet few actually take the plunge. Recently, a white-collar worker living in Pudong, Shanghai, embarked on a journey to find the perfect place to live in seclusion. Originally planning to visit only Xunwu in Jiangxi and Heyuan in Guangdong, he couldn’t stop himself and ended up driving all the way to Xinjiang. Three months have passed, and he’s still on the road...
Quitting a 20,000-yuan salary, sleeping in the car trunk along the way
"I prepared for over two months and finally set off. My initial destinations were Xunwu in Jiangxi and Heyuan in Guangdong. I don’t like making too many plans—plans change too quickly, and I prefer a life full of variables and an uncertain future. That way, there's both mystery and hope." Netizen "jack17575" has been livestreaming his journey titled "Bicycle Exploration of Secluded Places" online since the beginning of this year, sharing snippets of his travels with fellow netizens.
From his posts, it’s clear he prepared extensively for this journey. He installed two solar panels on the roof of his SUV, his "ride," and to save on hotel costs, he modified the back of the vehicle into a bed—using eight boxes as the base, laying bedding on top, and even installing curtains on the windows. When it got dark, he would park anywhere that offered free parking and sleep soundly in the back of the vehicle. Every few days, he’d spend a night showering and resting at a small motel. He ate almost all his meals at roadside eateries, and his car was equipped with an electric cooker to keep him fed when far from civilization. Over the three months on the road, he spent more than 36,000 yuan.
Starting from Shanghai and passing through Jiangxi, Guangdong, Yunnan, Tibet, and other places before arriving in Xinjiang, he constantly recorded his thoughts in his posts. He also humorously commented on the mountains in various regions: "The mountains in the northeast are for growing pine trees; the mountains in Jiangxi are for planting navel oranges; the mountains in Wuzhou are for digging red soil; the mountains in Guilin are for painting and sketching; the mountains in Shanghai are for post-meal strolls."
The traveler "jack17575" didn’t want to reveal his real name. He told reporters, "Call me Lao Feng—the wind that comes and goes swiftly." Lao Feng, 37, originally from the northeast, came to Shanghai 15 years ago and has since settled down with a family and career. For this journey in search of seclusion, he quit his job. "At thirty, one should be established; at forty, without doubts. I’m not far from forty, yet I still find myself confused about life and the future," Lao Feng admitted frankly. He’s currently in a phase of career growth, earning 20,000 yuan a month—not too shabby, but not outstanding either. Still, he gave it all up, spurred by what was dubbed the "end of the world" late last year. "I don’t believe the end of the world is real, but if it were, I’d definitely be dissatisfied with my current busy yet dull life." After discussing it with his family, he decided to make a change and thus quit his job to hit the road alone.
The ideal place must have mountains, water, electricity, and internet
After quitting, Lao Feng got to know a group of like-minded people while browsing forums. His first two destinations were recommended by friends. "The places I explored for seclusion in Xunwu and Heyuan weren’t in urban areas but rather contracted mountain lands—like navel orange orchards and barren hills used for raising chickens. The environment on the mountains was very harsh, with only a few simple cement cabins, cooking done on stoves, and the nights cold and lonely." A friend recommended Lao Feng check out Yunnan, and without hesitation, he drove straight through Jiangxi and Guangdong all the way to Xishuangbanna. Now, he has passed through Tibet and arrived in Xinjiang. "The scenery along this route is especially beautiful. I’m particularly fond of Mojiang County in Yunnan Province—it has a peaceful and comfortable vibe, isn’t overly commercialized, and isn’t too remote either." "Rather than true seclusion, it’s more like moving away from the city to experience a different kind of life," Lao Feng admitted that seclusion, in his mind, is by no means about cutting off all contact with the world. When asked about his standards for a place to seclude himself, his answer was: "Mountains, water, fields, electricity, and internet. It would be even better if it’s suitable for large-scale farming."
Conversation: Trapped by work for 15 years, longing for a different life
What does Lao Feng truly think about the balance between work and life? Reporters tried to get inside his mind.
Reporter: What do you do for work in Shanghai? Is retreating to the mountains just a spur-of-the-moment decision?
Lao Feng: I work in equipment maintenance. In Shanghai, I’m considered middle class—I have a car and a home. But because of work, my phone must be on 24/7. If there’s an emergency with the equipment, I have to rush out for repairs in the middle of the night. So I’m practically tied to my job and can’t even take proper holidays. Though I’ve lived in Shanghai for 15 years, I’ve only visited a few nearby ancient towns—never gotten the chance to go farther.
I’ve always dreamed of returning to a farming life. Quitting my job this time is also a bit of an adventure.
Reporter: Do you have any plans for the future after quitting? Will you take your family and leave Shanghai?
Lao Feng: I quit without a safety net—it was truly jumping in at the deep end. I really want to try making a living through farming, perhaps leasing a plot of land to grow organic vegetables on a large scale. This way, I can ensure the safety of my family’s food and earn an income, combining seclusion with entrepreneurship. But there are so many factors involved—it’s still just an idea. This trip, I went out alone, without bringing my family. Whether I’ll eventually sell the Shanghai apartment and move my family’s hukou elsewhere hasn’t been discussed with them yet.
Reporter: What impressed you most during this journey?
Lao Feng: On the road, you see many things completely different from big cities like Shanghai. I rarely get rejected when I offer to take photos of strangers. People in smaller places seem less scheming and guarded than city folk, and they’re more warm-hearted. Perhaps that’s what you’d call simplicity.
Reporter: Many people who read your posts also want to quit and seek seclusion. What advice do you have for them?
Lao Feng: Wanting to break free from city life takes courage and plenty of preparation, especially for those accustomed to urban living. Smaller places have fresh air and are quiet and pleasant, but you must be able to endure loneliness and hard work. There are no 24-hour convenience stores or ubiquitous wifi hotspots in seclusion, so anyone thinking of it must be mentally prepared and choose their location wisely—avoiding total isolation if possible.
Can one seclusion solve all worries? Not so fast.
While talking with Lao Feng, reporters could sense his joy in his cheerful tone, like the cry of a bird that had been caged for years and finally broke free. Clearly, that cry—and the words and images in his posts about "seclusion" and "searching"—moved many white-collar workers dreaming of escaping the city. Comments flooded in with bold declarations like "I want to seek seclusion too" and "I’m quitting right now."
But reporters want to tell these "would-be hermits": not so fast.
As someone who loves being on the road, reporters have also met many true hermits—people running restaurants or guesthouses in popular spots like Lijiang, Lhasa, and Fenghuang. These establishments have decent reputations within niche circles. "Keeping cats and dogs, basking in the sun, and growing plants" seems to be how travelers summarize their lives—but the reality is far from simple.
Along with a "slow life" pace comes low efficiency in getting things done; places with blue skies and white clouds but few people are often inconvenient to reach; and starry skies seem to be the opposite of 24-hour convenience stores... Monotonous life, difficult travel, and harsh environments mean the term "seclusion" may sound beautiful, but whether it suits those already dependent on big cities remains a question.
In the end, Lao Feng’s trip is just a journey of exploration. Though he quit impulsively, he didn’t rashly uproot his family and flee Shanghai. Under the call of dreams featuring "mountains, water, and fields," he hasn’t forgotten the reality of needing "water, electricity, and internet." Beneath Lao Feng’s seemingly emotional actions lies a rational and cautious mind.
The hustle and bustle of big cities can certainly breed weariness, but distant small towns aren’t all paradise either. Acting rashly on vague notions of escaping the city for seclusion might not solve all your current troubles—in fact, it could create new ones. As the saying goes, "Only the wearer knows where the shoe pinches." Whether to seek seclusion or not, you’d better think it through carefully.