Great Power Reclamation

Chapter 2964 Life on a California Farm

Ye Yuze and Yang Geyong looked at each other speechlessly as they watched the new deposits appear in their accounts. Yang Geyong finally managed to stammer, "Sister Honghua is truly amazing."

Looking at the dugout area that was being expanded in the distance, Ye Yuze said quietly, "Yeah, it seems we have to dig a few more 'pits'. Anyway... there are plenty of people willing to jump in."

This farce, which originated from dugouts, became an absurd yet real spectacle against the backdrop of Texas's vast farmlands and azure skies.

It's like a funhouse mirror, reflecting some bizarre psychological phenomena, as well as the complex picture of cultural symbols being consumed, misinterpreted, and given new meanings in the context of globalization.

Life on the farm continues amidst the chaos and laughter, a vibrant and bustling existence.

The "Huaxia Diwozi Experience Camp" at the Texas Farm has become incredibly popular within a specific circle, almost to an extreme degree.

It seems to have become a touchstone, or some kind of bizarre "social currency"—being able to stay in that $1,000 dugout for one night and posting a nine-grid photo on social media has become a symbol of "taste," "courage," and "strength."

The new wave of second-generation "challengers" has clearly learned from the "lessons learned" of their predecessors, with better equipment and more dramatic antics.

"Archaeologist" outfit: A young man wearing gold-rimmed glasses, a khaki multi-functional photography vest, a huge SLR camera hanging around his neck, and a magnifying glass in his hand.

He looked around in his dugout, occasionally picking up a clod of dirt with his fingers, smelling it (then frowning slightly), and said seriously to the live-streaming phone:
"Family members, look at this soil structure, look at this primitive construction technique... This is not just accommodation, it's a field survey! It's an on-site verification of the wisdom of our ancient Chinese ancestors!"

He even tried to discuss the relationship between the wind resistance of cave dwellings and human geography with an elderly Texas farmer who was resting and smoking a pipe. The old farmer, pipe in mouth, looked blank and finally managed to stammer out:
“Yeah… it's a hole. A good hole.”

The "Poet of Suffering" persona: A young woman with an artistic flair, dressed in a linen dress and wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat, who deliberately chose to stay on a cloudy day.

She carried a yellowed copy of the Book of Songs (or perhaps a niche avant-garde poetry collection), sat on a mound at the entrance of her dugout, and struck a melancholy pose gazing at the sky at a 45-degree angle, remaining there for half a day.

The notebook was filled with scribbles and drawings, the gist of which was: "Tonight, I fell into this historical crevice along with the stars; the fragrance of the earth mingled with the rusty feeling of time, piercing my sensitive soul..."

In her mind, she was probably raging: "There are so many mosquitoes! My butt is numb from sitting so long! Why hasn't anyone taken a nice picture of me yet?"

"Extreme Challenge" Live Stream: A young man who claims to be an outdoor adventure blogger sets up multiple camera positions and prepares to conduct a "24-hour wilderness survival live stream" in a dugout.

He brought his own food (high-quality energy bars and purified water), determined to experience the "purest" form of survival.

As it turned out, around midnight, listening to the wind and various unknown insect and animal sounds outside (mostly cattle, sheep, and common field mice), I was quite frightened and muttered to the camera:
"Hey guys, I think I heard wolves howling... This place is wild! Primitive! Send me some gifts, give me some courage!"

The next morning, with dark circles under his eyes, the first thing he did was sneak off to the farm's restaurant and devour three Texas beef burgers.

Meanwhile, American tourists who spent $300 exhibited a completely different style.

A family outing to a "farm stay": The Smith family, including the father, mother, and three energetic children, happily checked into their dugout.

To them, it was like a super cool camping trip! "Wow! A real underground house! Just like in the movies!"
Wow! A real underground house! Just like in the movies!

The children jumped and skipped on the earthen bed, using the straw curtain as the entrance to their secret base, having a great time.

Dad learned to make a fire with the farm workers (under safety guidance). Although his face was covered in soot, the sense of accomplishment when he successfully lit the earthen stove was comparable to a promotion and a raise.

The mother, on the other hand, took a great interest in the rough earthenware water jar, and thought that the water stored in it was "especially sweet" (actually, it was just her imagination).

In the evening, the family squeezed together on the earthen kang (a heated brick bed), listening to Dad tell stories of his childhood on his grandparents' farm, a scene of great joy.

A hardcore history enthusiast: an elderly American veteran with white hair, who came alone. He wandered quietly around the dugout, touching the rough wooden pillars and mud walls with his hands, his eyes full of respect.

He said to Ye Yuze: "Son, this reminds me of the foxholes we dug during the war. Simple, but it saves lives. Your people built a nation from this? Respect.
(My child, this reminds me of the foxholes we dug during the war. Crude, but they saved lives. Your people built a nation on such foundations? Admirable.)

He doesn't need to pose for photos or offer any profound insights; his experiences are weighty and stem from real-life experiences.

"Social Awesome" College Student Group: A group of American college students turned their dugout into a party house.

They brought their own guitars, and at night they would light a small campfire outside their dugouts (in a safe area allowed by the farm), play music, sing, drink cheap beer, and play silly drinking games.

They didn't care about the historical weight of the place; they just thought it was big enough (compared to tents), novel enough, and an excellent place to gather.

They even spontaneously organized a "dugout decoration contest," decorating the entrances of their respective dugouts with wildflowers and branches in a colorful and lively way, full of the casualness and joy of American countryside.

Two completely different art styles are bound to create a wonderful collision.

As the second-generation "archaeologist" was analyzing the "rammed earth construction technique" of the earthen wall in front of the camera, an American kid jumped out of the dugout next to him, holding up a rubber snake, and excitedly asked him:

"Hey Mister! Look! I found a dragon!"

The "archaeologist's" lips twitched slightly, trying to maintain his professional demeanor: "Little friend, this isn't a dragon, this is..."

The child's mother, a cheerful Texas woman, walked over and laughed heartily.
"Don't mind him, he's just having fun! Your costume is cool! You making a movie?
(Ignore him, he's just having fun! Your outfit is cool! Are you filming a movie?)

The "archaeologist" was speechless for a moment and could only nod awkwardly.

The young woman, a "poet of suffering," was gathering her emotions, preparing to write a line of poetry about "loneliness and the earth."

Loud laughter and clinking glasses came from the American college student group next door, completely shattering her "tranquility".

She looked over angrily, but saw the bright, untroubled smiles on the faces of those young people. That pure joy made her suddenly feel that her "melancholy" was a bit... pale and deliberate.

Yang Geyong observed for a few days and seemed to be getting the hang of it. He found Ye Yuze and summarized:
“Yuze, I think I understand now. To the Americans, our dugouts are just a novelty toy.”

"Or it might be a place that reminds them of the hardships their ancestors endured; they come here to have fun and experience it."

"But when it comes to our own kids... it feels like they're just putting on an act. They're putting on an act for themselves, and for others too."

Ye Yuze smiled and poured Yang Geyong a cup of tea:

"Dude, you've summed it up perfectly. That's what you call 'differentiation of needs.' Americans want 'Fun' and 'Experience.'"

“Our ‘distinguished guests’ want ‘Story’ and ‘Status’.”

We were responsible for providing the stage and props. They had fun performing, and we made money—a win-win situation.

"So... wouldn't we be considered to be encouraging... you know... unhealthy trends?" Yang Geyong was still somewhat straightforward.

“Hey,” Ye Yuze chuckled, “If there’s market demand, we’ll supply it reasonably. Besides, letting them spend some money, suffer some ‘hardships,’ and endure some ‘torture,’ while also receiving a (distorted) education on remembering the bitter past and appreciating the sweet present, is better than them messing around elsewhere, right?”

"Look, isn't the way they're spending their money more 'educational' than opening a casino with the Ace of Spades at a nightclub?"

Yang Geyong thought about how those second-generation rich kids were forcing smiles and posing for photos while trying to hide their discomfort, and then imagined the possible expressions on their parents' faces. He couldn't help but chuckle: "It seems...that makes sense!"

As a result, the dugout business at the Texas farm became increasingly prosperous. On one side, there was the simple and unpretentious laughter of American tourists, and on the other side, there was the meticulously crafted "performance art exhibition" by second-generation Chinese immigrants. The two coexisted without conflict, together forming the most absurd yet harmonious scene on this land.

Ye Yuze even began to consider whether to launch more "high-end" packages, such as an "Emperor-level Dungeon" with an antique-style oil lamp that doesn't light up and a tattered straw mat, or an "Ultimate Wilderness Survival Dungeon" in a more remote location with a worse signal, to further satisfy those customers who pursue the ultimate "experience" and "story".

After all, where there is demand, there is a market. And some demands, like the dug-out dwellings of Texas, only get more excited when the guests arrive.

The “Huaxia Diwozi Experience Camp” at the Texas Farm seems to have opened the entrance to a parallel universe, where all sorts of bizarre and wonderful scenes unfold one after another.

Among the second generation, a kind of "involution" based on dugouts has quietly emerged.

Initially, being able to stay in a $1,000 dugout and post it on social media was a status symbol. But soon, some people weren't satisfied with that. A "duration" competition began: some started boasting about "successfully completing the challenge of staying in a dugout for three consecutive days," with captions like:
"The limits of the body, the nirvana of the spirit."

The comments below were full of praise, calling him "awesome" and a "real tough guy".

Little did anyone know, this "tough guy" spent his days sneaking off to Dallas's most luxurious hotel to catch up on sleep and enjoy a spa treatment.

• The “suffering” escalates: When ordinary dugouts become “mediocre”, some people begin to set their sights on those in more remote locations with more “primitive” facilities.

Actually, it was a "hidden" dugout that Yang Geyong had cut corners on and failed to properly install drainage, resulting in some water seepage.

They used various connections or were willing to pay extra "spotting fees" just to be able to live in that dugout, which was jokingly called "Water Curtain Cave" or "Spider Cave".

Then, when taking photos, deliberately highlight the damp corner or cobwebs, and the caption is:

"This is the most authentic, unadorned trace of history! It truly resonates with the hardships of our ancestors!"

• A competition of “cultural export”: A young woman who calls herself a “traditional Chinese culture enthusiast” moves into a dugout with her guqin (a traditional Chinese stringed instrument).

She spread out a mat on the earthen bed, burned incense, using an electronic incense lamp, afraid that the real fragrance would attract insects.

He played the zither, specifically "A Laughter in the Vast Sea," and had his assistant record videos from different angles, claiming that he wanted to "play the true sound of China on the earth's veins."

The video garnered numerous compliments, with many praising her as a "talented woman" and "truly insightful."

However, American tourists living in the same area were greatly bothered, with one man subtly complaining to the farm:
"Is that continuous, monotonous 'buzzing' sound some kind of Eastern insect-repelling ritual?"

Meanwhile, after the initial novelty wore off, foreign tourists began to develop some ways to play that left Ye Yuze and Yang Geyong speechless.

• The "Turnover Contest" for Dungeons: A group of engineer families from California found the "primitive" nature of their dugouts a challenge.

Instead of complaining, they enthusiastically began to "optimize".

The father and children used the simple tools they brought and the materials they found on the farm to install a simple solar-powered ventilation fan in the dugout, which was made from an old computer fan.

A more effective drainage channel was also designed using waterproof fabric and bamboo.

The mother decorated the interior with wildflowers and colorful ribbons, calling it a "necessary aesthetic renovation to improve the quality of life."

When they left, they also left the farm with a detailed "Proposal for Making the Dunes More Habitable".

"Zen meditation" and "meditation": Several middle-aged people from Oregon, who believe in New Age philosophy, regard the dugout as the best place for meditation.

Every morning and evening, they would sit cross-legged in front of their dugouts, claiming that the "earth energy" there was particularly pure and helped them connect with cosmic energy.

They ignored the staged photos taken by the second-generation rich kids next door, completely immersed in their own mental world.

Occasionally, they would exchange a few words with the young woman who was described as a "poet of suffering," but they often talked at cross purposes—the poet talked about "the desolation of history," while they talked about "the vibrational frequency of energy."

The "History Reenactment" Club: A group of enthusiasts of reenacting the American Civil War, who came dressed in retro clothing after hearing that the dugouts resembled 19th-century frontier dwellings.

They simulated "pioneer life" in the dugout area, strictly following historical records to cook and make fires (bringing their own rations).

Hard crackers and bacon!

They even used replica firearms (without bullets, of course) to simulate guard duty and hunting. Their "immersive" experience was far more professional than that of the second generation, even attracting an interview from a local tabloid, making the second-generation "archaeologist" pale in comparison.

Not all second-generation heirs can maintain the carefully crafted personas they have created.

A blooper during a "24-hour wilderness survival" livestream: During a nighttime "exploration," the young man accidentally stepped into the edge of a manure pit used for composting on a farm (although there was a sign, he didn't notice it).

Although it only splashed onto my trouser leg, the strong smell seemed to be able to be smelled even through the screen.

The live stream chat instantly shifted from "Go Warriors!" to "Hahaha!", "Flavorful Streamer!", and "Seeking Survival Turns into Seeking Shit!" He ended the live stream prematurely in a sorry state, becoming a laughing stock in the community.

The irresistible aroma of the barbecue and beer: Almost every second-generation diners who come with the mindset of "suffering" and "checking off the list" eventually find it hard to resist the two irresistible laws of Texas Farm – freshly grilled, sizzling Texas barbecue and perfectly chilled local craft beer.

No matter how they staged "suffering" or wrote "melancholy" during the day, at night, they could always be seen gnawing on meat bones by the campfire.

Holding a beer mug in one hand, they put their arms around the shoulders of those "ordinary tourists" and even foreigners they initially looked down on, singing off-key songs.

At that moment, the pretense was shed, and they at least gained some genuine, unadulterated joy through taste and brief social interaction.

A "soul-searching question" from the older generation: A thoughtful second-generation member sent his father, who had actually worked in the countryside in northern Shaanxi, a nine-square grid of his memories of "bitter past and sweet present" from his dugout, hoping to receive praise.

Then his father called, his voice heavy: "Son, the dugout you live in is much better than the place we lived in back then!"

"Back then, our straw mats were all tattered, and we shivered from the cold in winter. There were no electric lights! Barbecue and beer? You're dreaming! You call this experiencing life? You're on vacation! Stop embarrassing yourself and get back here right now!"

After finishing the call, the second-generation rich kid looked at the beer he hadn't finished drinking and felt genuine shame and confusion for the first time.

Faced with an increasingly complex customer base and a constant stream of new situations, Ye Yuze and Yang Geyong's management wisdom is also being upgraded.

Ye Yuze started using "big data analysis" and "personalized services." He had people record which dugouts were most popular with "suffering enthusiasts" and which spots were booked long-term by "meditation groups."

He even considered launching "dugout-themed blind boxes"—randomly assigning dugouts with different "hardship levels" and "cultural themes" (such as "the early days of the Production and Construction Corps," "the years of educated youth," and "wilderness hermit") to satisfy the curiosity and competitive mentality of the second generation.

"We need to transform their vanity into a continuous flow of cash for us."

Ye Yuze said this to the management team during a video conference.

Yang Geyong continued his traditional management methods. He found that the foreign families who were trying to "optimize" their dugouts were very creative, so he simply set up a "Dugout Renovation Interest Group". The farm provided basic tools and safety materials, allowing tourists to create their own designs. He also established a "Best Creative Renovation Award", with a free whole roasted lamb as the prize.

The event was very popular and even attracted some hands-on Chinese tourists to participate.

Yang Geyong grinned as he looked at the dugouts that had been transformed into all sorts of different shapes and sizes.
"That's great. They did it themselves and even helped us with the maintenance, saving us money on labor."

This dugout area on the Texas farm became a huge social experiment.

It amplifies the vanity, affectation, and identity anxiety of certain groups, while also showcasing the simple desires of ordinary people (both Chinese and foreign) to find enjoyment, get close to nature, and even create with their own hands.

As night fell, the campfire burned brightly, and the aroma of roasted meat filled the air. The once distinct groups of people gradually blurred in the atmosphere of alcohol, delicious food, and joy.

A second-generation rich kid might be explaining the trendy brand logo on his clothes to an American college student in fluent English, while the college student is teaching him how to play a silly but fun finger game.

Ye Yuze and Yang Geyong stood on a high ground in the distance, looking at this land where lights and starlight intertwined, filled with laughter and absurd drama.

“Brother, look, they’re actually quite cute, aren’t they?” Ye Yuze suddenly said.

Yang Geyong snorted and took a swig of beer:
"A bunch of silly boys and girls... but they're better than those who just point fingers. At least they spent real money, and... they did contribute to our GDP."

The two men smiled at each other. Under the night sky, the legend of the Texas farm continued.

The story of the dugouts is far from over.

After all, as long as there are people in this world who want to prove their "extraordinary" status by "suffering," Ye Yuze and Yang Geyong will never have to worry about a lack of business.