On a crisp autumn afternoon, Chen Yijie, a 20-year-old finance major at Renmin University of China, found herself in a baking class learning how to make a chiffon cake. On three consecutive Wednesdays, with each session lasting two to three hours, she measured flour, whipped egg whites and watched the oven with anticipation.

"It was really fun," Chen said. "I personally enjoy baking, so I chose this course. We worked in groups of three, helping each other — one stirring, one preparing ingredients. It really developed team cooperation."

When the cake came out of the oven, the sense of achievement was immediate. Chen and her group shared their creation with their peers. "It was a very happy experience," she said.

Chen is among a growing number of Chinese university students now required to complete labor education credits before graduation. Under a national guideline issued in 2020 by the Ministry of Education, undergraduate students must complete at least 32 class hours of labor education as a compulsory requirement. The policy aims to integrate labor into the broader framework of moral, intellectual, physical, and aesthetic education, alongside traditional academic subjects.

The ministry has since called for universities to build systematic labor education curricula, emphasizing hands-on experience, teamwork and respect for workers.

Across campuses, that mandate has given rise to a remarkable range of courses: baking cakes, fixing leaky faucets, pruning trees, and harvesting bamboo fungus. And students are lining up for spots.

At Beijing University of Posts and Telecommunications, Zhao Xiaoye, deputy Party secretary of the university's logistics department, has witnessed the enthusiasm firsthand.

"Every time we announce our cooking micro-classroom spots disappear within seconds," she said."Just recently, we offered a qingtuan (sweet green rice ball) class for 70 students. They (places) were gone in less than three minutes."

But the cooking classes are about more than just food.

Zhao explained that before students start mixing ingredients, she teaches the cultural story behind the Cold Food Festival, which is traditionally observed the day before Qingming Festival, where no fire is lit and only cold food is eaten.

Many students have never had the chance to cook at home, she said. Through this process, they not only learn to make a dish but also experience the joy of labor, the inheritance of Chinese culture, and develop empathy for kitchen staff.

That empathy, Zhao stressed, is a crucial outcome.

"When a student finds a hair in their cafeteria food, they get very angry. But after they've gone through the entire process of making a dish themselves — even if they find two hairs in their own cooking — their reaction is completely different. They understand how much work goes into each dish."

Zhao believes labor education also addresses deeper needs, including mental well-being.

Science and engineering students, for example, have very tight schedules and their course loads are heavy.

Labor education helps them decompress. When they're stuck on a research problem or feeling down, getting their hands dirty outdoors can open their minds and lift their spirits, she said.

Zhao pointed to a recent outdoor labor session where students were asked to clear stones from a field before planting flowers and vegetables. Within five minutes, over 100 students had signed up.

"They're curious, they want to learn, and they also get labor hours and credits. It's a win-win," she said.

For Zhao, the old slogan "labor is the most glorious" only truly takes root through experience. The university has a persimmon harvest festival on campus every year, she said.

The fruit grows high on the trees and is not easy to pick. But when students work hard to harvest them themselves, they find the persimmons beautiful, sweet and fragrant. They show them off to friends and say they picked them. If a persimmon simply fell to the ground, they might not even pick it up, she said.

"That self-directed growth and personal experience — that's what makes them truly feel the glory of labor."

Connecting to the land

On a spring morning in Handan, Hebei province, Zhi Ying, a first-year law student at Beijing University of Posts and Telecommunications, knelt in the freshly tilled soil of a cornfield.

Under the guidance of agricultural experts, Zhi and her classmates learned to open furrows, sow seeds and cover them with earth. Weeks later, when the mature corn was harvested and sent back to campus, she tasted the fruit of her own labor.

"The sweetness lingered not just on my tongue but also brought a complete sense of achievement, from sowing to harvest," she said. "I went from being a bystander of agricultural production to someone who truly got their hands dirty."

Wang Xinyi, a second-year undergraduate majoring in artificial intelligence at BUPT participated in a spring pomegranate tree planting event on campus as part of labor classes, working alongside university leaders and fellow students.

"We dug soil, watered, and carefully planted the saplings," she said. Afterward, those who toiled sat together and listened to classmates share their stories.

Wang said labor education helped her "connect more deeply with the land and real life". She added: "As young people in the new era, we not only need to master skills like coding and technology — we also need to grow into well-rounded individuals with responsibility, teamwork skills, and an understanding of life."

"Planting a tree and waiting for it to grow teaches you patience and helps fight the anxiety of today's fast-paced world. Making food by hand shows you that technology should serve life, not the other way around. And clearing snow in winter toughens your will and deepens your respect for every ordinary worker," she said.

Zhi, who planted corn in Handan, found that the experience reshaped her understanding of time and reward.