China underground: Affordable and sustainable homes

In parts of China’s Loess Plateau, the landscape appears to be nothing more than rolling hills and quiet farmland. Yet beneath the surface, a hidden community thrives, literally breathing within the earth.

These cool homes, known as yaodong (cave houses) and dikengyuan (pit courtyard), are built into the earth and blend right in with the landscape, often featuring courtyards shaded by trees. They might look a bit quirky to outsiders but these homes are far from relics of the past. Many of these earthen homes are being revitalised with modern amenities for modern living in the 21st century.

These hidden homes are not just charming pieces of history. They were built long before eco-friendly building trends and energy-saving technologies became the norm, relying instead on the earth’s natural thermal stability.

This keeps their interiors nice and cool in the summer and warm in the winter without needing to use a lot of mechanical systems. For countries dealing with rising energy needs and hotter climates, these traditional designs offer some great lessons on sustainability and being in tune with the environment.

As Malaysia moves toward more eco-conscious building practices, checking out the logic behind these ancient homes and comparing them to local design styles and modern green projects can really open our eyes.

Sustainability does not always have to mean high-tech solutions. Sometimes it starts with a good understanding of climate, culture and the local scene.

China’s mysterious underground houses

Yaodong and dikengyuan homes are either carved directly into loess, a soft, fertile soil or sunken around a central courtyard. Their thick earthen walls provide insulation while open-air courtyards act as light wells that allow sunlight and airflow into their dwellings.

This form of earth-sheltered architecture helps occupants utilise the soil’s thermal properties, reducing energy requirements for heating and cooling.

China’s underground homes are surprisingly diverse, each shaped by the local landscape and way of life. In Henan and Shaanxi, silo‑cave villages once sprawled across entire communities, with sunken homes clustered around courtyards that kept families cool in summer and warm in winter.

In the northern regions, hillside yaodong are carved into slopes, sometimes paired with above-ground structures. Many of these homes are actually still lived in today.

Near Beijing, the ancient Guyaju Caves reveal a remarkable feat of engineering, with dozens of chambers carved into cliffs. Even in Guizhou, a few natural cave villages show how people once took shelter inside limestone caves, enjoying stable temperatures and protection from the elements.

Field studies and simulations of these modernised dwellings show lower energy consumption compared with conventional construction, particularly for heating and cooling, which is a key consideration for sustainable housing anywhere.

The value of these case studies is not just about copying the underground form. It is more about grasping the design principles behind them.

For starters, using local materials is a big win. It cuts down on embodied energy and construction costs, great for both sustainability and the local economy.

Then there is climate-responsive design which focuses on working with the environment instead of fighting against it.

This approach helps buildings take advantage of natural conditions, making them more comfortable without relying too much on artificial systems.

Another principle is using natural insulation and airflow to reduce reliance on mechanical systems. This way, structures can maintain a comfortable climate while being kinder to the environment.

These ideas resonate well with long-standing traditions and new practices in Malaysia, highlighting a growing trend towards sustainability in architecture. These principles can lead to some really innovative and context-aware designs.

Malaysia’s vernacular architecture

Long before modern sustainability became a buzzword, Malay vernacular architecture demonstrated many of the same principles on tropical soil.

Traditional kampung houses are usually built on stilts, elevating living spaces to enhance ventilation and protect against flooding. This was considered a practical response to Malaysia’s hot, humid and rainy climate.

Raised floors allow air to circulate beneath homes while overhangs, shaded verandahs and flexible interior layouts help control heat and encourage airflow.

Studies on traditional Malay houses show how passive design elements such as cross‑ventilation and material choices contribute to thermal comfort even if modern houses tend to ignore these lessons in favour of mechanical cooling systems.

These homes were designed around climate and community, not architecture as an isolated object. Architectural research also points out that adapting elements of traditional design such as ventilation, orientation and flexible space planning into modern housing can improve comfort and occupant satisfaction.

Local examples of climate‑responsive design

Malaysia has some impressive examples of modern sustainable design that merge traditional and contemporary ideas.

Take the S11 House in Petaling Jaya, for instance. This award-winning home shows how tropical design can really cut down on energy use, even in our hot and humid climate.

What sets S11 House apart is its deliberate attempt to make air-conditioning optional rather than essential. Designed around passive cooling, the home relies on deep roof overhangs, careful orientation and natural ventilation to reduce heat gain in Malaysia’s tropical climate.

Its oversized roof doubles as a climate-control device while landscaping and water features are engineered to cool the surrounding microclimate. As one of the earliest private residences to achieve GBI Platinum status, the house has since become a reference point for climate-responsive residential design in Malaysia.

Another great example is the Kubik House in Ipoh, cosily situated within a golf-course community. Kubik reinterprets Malay vernacular for the 21st century, orienting the building east–west to minimise sun penetration while generous overhangs shade the long facades through the day. A large north‑facing deck creates a low‑pressure zone that draws natural ventilation through living spaces so they often do not require air‑conditioning.

Interestingly, the house produces nearly three times more energy than it uses, exporting the surplus back to the grid.

Materials like clay bricks, aerated concrete and several hardwood species were locally sourced to lower embodied energy, and rainwater is collected to water landscaping, making the residence a strong example of tropical sustainable design grounded in local climate and culture.

Up in Janda Baik, Twinkle Villa shows how architecture can harmonise with hilly terrain and forested surroundings. The retreat was designed to minimise site disturbance, preserving almost all mature trees while open-plan layouts and cross-ventilation take advantage of cool mountain breezes.

Fair-faced concrete and brick walls stabilise indoor temperatures and double shading from the roof and tree canopy reduces heat gain, blending the built form seamlessly into the natural environment.

These examples show how thoughtful designs inspired by tradition or modern sustainability can create homes that meet modern needs while reducing environmental impact.

Why this matters

Malaysia’s climate is different from the dry Loess Plateau of China but the underlying design conversations still intersect around energy efficiency, climate adaptation and cultural identity.

In tropical settings, strategies such as shading, natural ventilation, thermal mass and orientation are crucial for reducing cooling demand and they have been part of local architectural thought for centuries.

Green building certification systems like the GBI and GreenRE are increasingly shaping commercial and residential developments. Yet many large‑scale housing projects still rely heavily on mechanical cooling and standardised designs that prioritise cost over performance.

The examples above show that sustainable design does not have to be expensive, but it often requires planning from the earliest design stages.

Moreover, integrating vernacular logic into new housing can reinforce community identity and occupant wellbeing, rather than treating sustainability as a set of add‑on technologies.

Traditional yet modern

China’s earth‑sheltered homes remind us that architecture can be both resourceful and rooted. But for Malaysia, the more immediate inspiration may come from within: the kampung houses and contemporary tropical residences that blend passive strategies with modern lifestyles.

Rather than building underground, Malaysian architects and developers might wonder how they can create sustainable homes not because of the technology they carry but because of the way they relate to climate, culture and context.

Thinking about it now, the answer has been around for generations. It is now up to designers, policymakers and homeowners to use these as guiding principles for a more sustainable built future.