Our homecoming has always been driven by a clear and definite motivation: to reconnect with our individual and cultural identities rooted in our native land and soil.

Born in a rural countryside, since a young age I was constantly urged to “leave home” and to “live an urban life.” This persistent persuasion eventually led to a crisis of personal and cultural identity.

Initially, I channeled my confusion into intense study, voraciously reading books about rural countryside and sociology, including the renowned work From the Soil by Fei Xiaotong. This academic pursuit naturally led me to prepare for graduate studies in sociology, seemingly setting me on a path of academic research.

Time passed, and in late 2011, while volunteering for various rural development projects, I found myself drawn back to my hometown. Ultimately, I returned to my village, Zhenghebang, giving up my academic aspirations for research.

Zhenghebang is located in the Hangjiahu Plain, the largest alluvial plain in Zhejiang Province. This region, bounded by Lake Tai to the north, the Qiantang River and Hangzhou Bay to the south, and Mount Tianmu to the west, encompasses Jiaxing City, most of Huzhou City, and northeastern Hangzhou. Historically, this area has been the cradle and cultural epicenter of silk production in China.

However, the once-thriving silk culture has declined at an alarmingly fast speed. In a village where sericulture was once ubiquitous, with every household engaged in silkworm farming, only six families continue this ancient practice today.

Is industrialized sericulture our only path forward?

Our research and hands-on experience have revealed that sericulture is far more than just the cultivation of silkworms. It encompasses a complete ecological and cultural system that is usually unseen and rarely understood.

We’ve come to understand that the disappearance of a culture isn’t merely about the loss of tangible objects—these can be replicated through industrial means. Rather, it’s about the severing of the delicate relationship between humans and nature.

Looking back a century to the dawn of modernization, we find that our sericulture pioneers, including Fei Datong (the elder sister of Fei Xiaotong), envisioned modernization with a focus on people (rather than objects).

This human-centric approach forms the foundation upon which Plum and Fish aims to refashion craftsmanship, relationships, and connections.

In this context, sericulture transcends its traditional result-driven nature. It now embodies the cultivation of harmonious relationships between humans and nature, as well as among people themselves.

Silkworm farming is no longer just a means to an end; it has become an end in itself.