Spring arrives in Bayan County, Heilongjiang, with a lingering chill in the air. As vast expanses of black soil awaken from winter, agricultural machinery sits neatly arranged in a cooperative's yard, ready to soon roll into the fields. Several farmers gathered there, discussing this year's planting plans, quickly turned their conversation to Liu Hui. "We trust this young fellow with our land," they said. "He's a great farmer; we really have to thank Liu Hui these past few years."

The Liu Hui they speak of is the creator behind the Kuaishou account "Dachong'er," focusing on agriculture, rural areas, and farmers. He is also the head of the Liu Hui Junong Cooperative in Bayan County, Harbin, Heilongjiang Province. Locally, many call him the "Land Nanny." The title sounds simple, yet carries significant weight. What is entrusted to him is not just a plot of land, but a family's annual harvest and hope.

A recent episode of the "New New Laotie" series, a collaborative project between Kuaishou and Xinhua News Agency, spotlighted this new-generation farmer rooted in the black soil region. The short documentary, in a micro-record style, entered Liu Hui's cooperative, farmers' courtyards, and the fields, documenting how he evolved from a "thoroughbred farmer" to exploring comprehensive land trusteeship and large-scale mechanized farming, and how he shares agricultural expertise with more people via Kuaishou.

Liu Hui often says he is just a farmer. "My grandfather was a farmer, my father was a farmer, and I am a farmer." Behind this statement lies three generations of experience working the land. In his grandfather's time, a family of six or seven farmed over a dozen mu of land. In his parents' generation, a family farmed over twenty mu. By his generation, farming began to change—it was no longer just about the labor of individual households but relied on organization, technology, machinery, and management, breaking down a season's farmwork into finer components before reassembling them.

The change first emerged in the village. Around 2013, as the elderly population in villages grew, many farmers still owned land but could no longer farm it themselves. Leasing it out brought low income; continuing to farm themselves meant a shortage of labor, strength, and know-how. It was at that time Liu Hui began contemplating land trusteeship. Farmers wouldn't need to sell their land or work the fields themselves; the cooperative would manage everything from seeds, fertilizer, and pesticides to planting and harvesting. "Elderly folks, you don't need to sell. If you can't manage the work, I'll help you farm." This was the embryo of what later became "comprehensive land trusteeship."

On the surface, it is a package of agricultural supplies and services. On a deeper level, it reconnects scattered smallholder farmers into a large-scale, standardized agricultural service system. For older farmers, it is a worry-free choice; for those lacking technology or energy, it is a lower-risk production method. However, trust was not immediate. In earlier years, Liu Hui did not come from a background of large-scale farming; he had raised pigs and traded agricultural supplies. When he first started trusteeship, farmers were skeptical: "You're a piglet catcher; why should I let you farm my land? What if you ruin it? What if the yield is poor? What if production is low?"

To reassure his fellow villagers, Liu Hui first absorbed the risk himself. Seeds, fertilizer, pesticides, rotary tillage, ridging, sowing—farmers didn't need to pay upfront in the early stages; they would settle accounts in autumn based on the results. If the farming went well and yields were high, farmers would then pay the trusteeship fee. If it went poorly, the fee was waived. This was not an easy choice. In the early years of trusteeship, he lost money and endured much pressure and misunderstanding. At the most difficult time, having no money to buy fertilizer, he sold his favorite vehicle. When others asked why he sold the car, he avoided the truth, simply saying, "The car wasn't good; I'll get another one soon." Recalling this years later, he still remembers clearly: "What could I do without money for fertilizer? You can't just skip fertilizing for these entrusted farmers, can you?"

Such pressure did not disappear as the scale expanded. The larger the land trusteeship grew, the more Liu Hui had to consider on behalf of the farmers: Would the weather change? Would grain prices fall? Could costs be controlled? Could the promised guaranteed income be delivered? In 2020, a real test arrived. That year, he promised to guarantee farmers a minimum income per mu, "regardless of the year's conditions, regardless of natural disasters, regardless of grain prices." Unexpectedly, three consecutive typhoons caused 72,000 mu of corn to lodge. Harvesting costs, risks of reduced yield, and the pressure of the guarantee all fell on his shoulders at once. "You promised the people a minimum guarantee. You have to live up to your conscience; you must somehow get the harvest back for the people." This statement captures the true weight behind the title "Land Nanny." It is not just an honorific; it is the trust Liu Hui has shouldered, bit by bit, over the years.

Today, the Liu Hui Junong Cooperative has developed a relatively mature model of comprehensive land trusteeship, covering multiple stages from seed selection, sowing, and field management to harvesting and sales. Public reports and related materials indicate that in 2025, the cooperative provided trusteeship services for over 120,000 mu of cultivated land. Through technical solutions like "wide ridge dense planting," the average corn yield per mu reached 2,527 jin. If farmers had cultivated these fields themselves in the past, it would have required at least 1,200 people to complete the related farm work. Relying on smart agricultural machinery and scale management, the cooperative accomplished the tasks with just 47 machinery operators.

By 2026, this scale was still expanding. In the latest episode of "New New Laotie," Liu Hui mentioned that the cooperative's trusteeship area had grown from 123,000 mu in 2025 to 160,000 mu. With the increased area, the cooperative's division of labor became more specialized: some are specifically responsible for agricultural machinery, others for agricultural techniques. Machinery operators are further divided into different teams for tasks like cultivation, sowing, plant protection, and harvesting. Managing 160,000 mu with 47 people relies not on exerting more effort but on breaking down, meticulously managing, and standardizing every single step.

This mechanism has also changed the income model for machinery operators. In 2025, the cooperative distributed over 5 million yuan in dividends to them. Liu Hui says he doesn't feel the slightest bit of reluctance: "Only when they earn more can the cooperative's benefits improve, farmers' yields increase, and their wallets grow fuller." This mechanism further extends the meaning of "Land Nanny": it not only gives farmers peace of mind but also allows machinery operators, growers, and new farmers to find their place within a more professional agricultural system.

In Liu Hui's view, farming today is far from simply about hard labor. Agriculture is a comprehensive discipline requiring knowledge of seeds, fertilizer, pesticides, agricultural machinery, techniques, trade, and markets, as well as the ability to withstand natural risks and price fluctuations. "Good seeds, good land, good machinery, and good techniques must all be combined to boost yields. No single link can afford problems." He rarely speaks lightly of agriculture. Farming holds promise, but not everyone can do it well casually. Modern agriculture has barriers to entry; one must understand technology, management, markets, and also bear responsibility for the land and the farmers.

Offline, Liu Hui is the "Land Nanny" by the farmers' side. Online, he brings the farming experience accumulated over years to more field ridges via Kuaishou. In rural areas, much knowledge was traditionally passed among acquaintances or taught by seasoned veterans. Each village had its own farming methods, each hamlet its own customs. Which crop varieties to use for which family's land, how to mix fertilizer, when to apply pesticides, when to sell grain—these often required years of experience to figure out gradually. For young people, this threshold is not low. For older farmers, new planting methods, agricultural machinery, techniques, and market trends may not reach the fields promptly.

When Liu Hui first started using Kuaishou, he saw it merely as a place to record daily life. Spring sowing, summer seedling inspection, autumn harvest—he filmed whatever was happening in the fields. As he posted more, increasingly specific questions appeared in the comments and private messages: how to choose varieties, how to mix fertilizer, how to create wide ridges, when to control corn growth, whether they could learn farming from him. These questions straight from the fields made Liu Hui gradually realize that what many farmers truly need is not profound theory but understandable, actionable methods.

Thus, he began more intentionally creating short videos on planting techniques, trusteeship models, grain market trends, and yield-increasing experiences. He describes Kuaishou as a "loudspeaker." "Before, I was just talking to myself. Now this amplifier lets many people hear my planting techniques, including my trusteeship model and how ordinary folks can increase yield and income." In Liu Hui's videos, agricultural techniques are not abstract concepts from textbooks but visible details in the fields. What ridge spacing is more suitable, how deep to place fertilizer, how to judge pests and diseases, whether grain price changes will affect a year's income—these questions farmers care most about are broken down into plainer language. Post-sowing seedling emergence, leaf color, soil moisture, and machinery operation quality all become on-site explanations for agricultural techniques.

This mode of expression allows experience once confined to a single village or hamlet to be seen by people farther away. In Liu Hui's Kuaishou backend, private messages are perpetually at "99+." Some come asking about techniques, some about trusteeship, and others travel from other regions specifically to seek advice at the cooperative. Many who seek him out are young people around 30 years old. "They want to enter this industry, they want to farm, they like agriculture, they have a feeling for the land."

This online-offline connection is also driving tangible change. Liu Hui mentioned a grower from Jilin whom he met through Kuaishou. Previously yielding about 1,800 jin per mu, after communication and learning, last year's yield reached over 2,600 jin per mu. Another young person from Boli, Heilongjiang, originally a barbecue vendor with no farming experience, followed him to farm 60 mu in the first year, expanded to 6,000 mu in the second year, and saw changes in both income and family circumstances.

His popularity on Kuaishou stems not only from his ability to explain techniques but also because he addresses many issues farmers care about but might not articulate clearly: how to increase yield, how to control risk, how to make farming more promising and a more worthwhile pursuit for young people to return to. For Liu Hui, sharing agricultural know-how is not just about expanding influence; it feels more like answering a practical question: Who will farm the land in the future?

In recent years, as rural aging deepens, the questions of who will farm the land and how to farm it well are challenges many villages face. Liu Hui does not shy away from the hardships and risks of agriculture. He says that to farm well, one must not only understand seeds, fertilizer, pesticides, machinery, techniques, and trade but also possess a sense of responsibility and resilience under pressure. Yet precisely because the barriers are rising, agriculture needs even more young people who have technical skills, understand operations, and are willing to immerse themselves in the land.

In the documentary, Liu Hui mentions that he is personally mentoring some young people in farming, even willing to advance funds, agricultural supplies, and technology for them initially. "If they lose money, it's on me. If they profit, it's theirs." He hopes to help more people wanting to enter agriculture avoid detours and also change some people's stereotypical impressions of farming. "I believe the future of agriculture must be large-scale and modernized," Liu Hui says. "Farming isn't hard labor. As long as you understand technology and science, you can farm well."

From the "Land Nanny" in farmers' mouths to an agricultural technique creator on Kuaishou, and then to a mentor in Kuaishou's agricultural assistance support group, Liu Hui's story presents a new profile of contemporary creators focused on agriculture, rural areas, and farmers: they are not only documenting rural life but also bringing modern agricultural technology, business models, market information, and real-world experience to broader fields.

In the lens of "New New Laotie," Liu Hui is not portrayed as a distant success story. He sits against a wall basking in the sun, saying, "Going to the fields makes me super happy." He looks at the young seedlings in the field, saying their neat emergence is like a painting. He talks about past losses, selling his car, typhoon-induced lodging, and sleepless nights worrying about rain, not avoiding those messy moments. These specific, genuine snapshots ensure that "the Land Nanny of the black soil" is not just a pleasant-sounding title. It reads more like a real footnote for a new-generation farmer: someone is watching over the land for the farmers, someone is explaining techniques to more people, and someone is making "returning home to farm" not just a fallback option but a choice offering technical skill, income, and dignity.

People often ask, who will farm the land in the future? The answer Liu Hui provides in the documentary still carries the simplicity and steadfastness of the black soil region: "As long as there is harvest, dignity, and a future, naturally, people will come."