In a ceramic company's clearance warehouse, a most unusual treasure hunt unfolds on weekends.
Visitors push carts through narrow aisles, their eyes scanning mountains of scattered porcelain items. A delicate teacup here, a minimalist bowl there, an elegant plate stacked nearby — all priced between 1 and 3 yuan (14-43 US cents).
One can hear bursts of exclamations and laughter that suggest surprising finds.
This is the new life pulsing through Tongguan Old Street, a 500-meter-long lane in Changsha, the capital of Hunan province, that first took shape during the Tang Dynasty (618-907).
For much of the late 20th century, however, the street's fortunes waned.
As large-scale industrial ceramic production grew, the demand for traditional, handcrafted wares declined, and many artisans struggled.
The old town was fading, traditional skills were ignored, and many changed trades, according to the street's administration.
The future of the intricate skills that once fueled a global trade was uncertain until a concerted revival effort began in the early 2000s.
Local authorities have since worked to restore its image and rolled out incentives to attract porcelain artisans and businesses. It has given rise to a remarkable renaissance.
In 2021, the old street was designated as a Hunan provincial historical and cultural street.
The ceramic treasure hunt offers a clue to this transformation. The pieces on sale are mostly rejects from the company's main production line due to microscopic flaws, such as pinprick bubbles or tiny specks.
"To a professional, they're imperfect. To everyone else, they're perfectly beautiful and usable," notes Xu Peng, an expert from the Hunan provincial ceramic art committee.
This porcelain hunting activity serves as a way of inviting people in, letting Tongguan's extraordinary underglaze colors enter ordinary homes, Xu adds.
This spirit of accessibility has defined the new old street.
Here, masters of intangible cultural heritage work side by side with young innovators. The air carries the earthy scent of clay and the low hum of electric pottery wheels.
In one studio, Liu Jiahao, in his 30s, guides a visitor's hands on a pottery wheel.
The fourth-generation heir to the local legendary "Mudman Liu" family, with his father, Liu Kunting, a national-level inheritor of the Tongguan kiln techniques, has chosen to stick to tradition with a touch of innovation.
"I was obsessed with the unpredictability of wood-firing," he says, recalling a formative trip to the porcelain capital Jingdezhen in Jiangxi province during university.
Unlike the controlled gas kilns used in modern industry for consistency, wood-firing embraces unpredictability.
In the wood-burning furnace, ash and flame interact with the glaze in a dramatic, inherently "guessing" process known as kiln transformation.
"It's about collaborating with the fire, not commanding it," he explains. "The kiln gives each piece a unique 'skin' — a record of its passage through the flames."
