Viral ‘Gratitude Melons Sprout From a Xuzhou Courtyard After a Man Spat Seeds}
A light‑hearted story from the Chinese province of Jiangsu has taken the nation’s social media by storm, offering a rare slice of feel‑good news amid the usual headlines of geopolitics and economics. On August 9, 2025, a man from the city of Xuzhou posted a short video that quickly went viral on Weibo and Douyin: after a three‑month absence, he returned home to discover his modest courtyard brimming with watermelons. The fruit, described in the clip as “large” and “juicy,” numbered about eight in total, with some of the melons weighing as much as 15 jin—roughly 7.5 kilograms each.
10 August 2025
The source of the unexpected harvest is, according to the homeowner, as unpretentious as it is absurd. He recalled that a year earlier, while eating a watermelon, he had casually spat the seeds onto the ground before setting out on a trip. Somewhere among those discarded kernels, a few found their way into a crack in the cement that lines his yard. Over the course of months, rain, sunlight and a thin layer of soil nurtured the seeds, and they sprouted into robust vines that produced the bumper crop now on display.
Internet users immediately christened the fruit “报恩瓜”—literally “gratitude melons”—and, in a wave of good‑natured humor, dubbed them “watermelon fairies repaying kindness.” The phrase captures a uniquely Chinese blend of folklore and modern meme culture, suggesting that nature itself has returned a small act of care with an abundance of bounty. The visual of a concrete‑lined courtyard suddenly overflowing with round, green‑striped giants proved irresistible, and the video amassed millions of views within hours.
The reaction has been a kaleidoscope of amusement, nostalgia, and skeptical inquiry. Many netizens, especially those who grew up in rural areas, recalled similar episodes from their own childhoods—seedlings popping up where fruit had been carelessly discarded. Comments such as “the vitality of plants is super tenacious” and “sometimes the ‘blind boxes’ nature gives are sweeter than anything we carefully tend” reflected a collective awe at the resilience of life.
At the same time, a sizable contingent of commenters questioned the plausibility of the tale. Watermelons of that size typically require deliberate pollination, regular watering and fertilisation, and most users pointed out that a wild vine growing in a cement crevice would hardly produce fruit of such calibre. One skeptical voice wrote, “Watermelons need artificial pollination; how could they grow so big without watering or fertilising? This is ridiculous!” Others wondered whether the story had been embellished for viral effect, noting that “wild melons are usually small; this one looks too perfect.”
The debate itself has become part of the story’s allure. While some users demanded proof—asking for details about soil depth, irrigation, or the presence of pollinating insects—others simply reveled in the fantasy. Urban dwellers who have struggled for years to coax a single seedling onto a balcony garden expressed envy: “I’ve been trying to grow watermelons on my balcony for three years and still haven’t tasted one,” one user lamented. Another quipped, “Someone spits seeds and ends up with a whole orchard, while my carefully nurtured succulents all die early.”
Beyond the humor, the episode has sparked a modest discussion about the adaptability of crops. Botanists referenced the hardiness of Citrullus lanatus, noting that watermelon seeds can remain viable for many months and germinate given sufficient moisture, even in marginal substrates The crack in the cement, though not an ideal growing medium, can collect rainwater and organic debris, creating a micro‑habitat capable of sustaining a plant’s early life stages.
As of August 10, the story continued to circulate, with DaWan News reposting the original clip and further amplifying the buzz. No additional individuals have been identified beyond the unnamed homeowner; the focus remains squarely on the unlikely bounty and the cultural punch it has landed. Whether the melons are a genuine botanical surprise or a well‑crafted viral hoax, the episode underscores a persistent human fascination with nature’s capacity to surprise, reward and, sometimes, outwit our expectations.
In a digital age where sensationalism often leans toward the bleak, the “gratitude watermelons” of Xuzhou have offered a brief, juicy reminder that even a casual act—spitting a seed—can, under the right conditions, blossom into something unexpectedly delightful.