The Tongling culture bureau describes the Baoshan site as a Tang-era mine made of two vertical shafts joined by a horizontal gallery. At another site, dozens of shaft openings were found along a hillside, each roughly two metres across. These are not abstract indicators of production. They are the entrances to work carried out underground, with miners descending into the rock and bringing ore back toward the surface.
From the journal
Tongling’s ancient mines and smelting sites
Mine shafts on a slope, smelting remains below and heavy slag blocks record a landscape shaped by extraction.
In the same city · Tongling ↗Shafts cut into the hillside
A short distance from ore to furnace
At Gaolian, an ancient mine and a smelting site lie about 300 metres apart. The bureau dates the archaeological evidence from the Six Dynasties through the Tang and Song periods. Its description gives the landscape a clear working logic: extraction took place on the mountain, while smelting was done below. The close spacing linked two stages of production without making them the same activity. Ore moved from slope to furnace; heat and fuel transformed it into metal.
The weight of the furnace’s leftovers
Copper production leaves traces beyond the shaft itself. The bureau records large slag deposits, including blocks at Luojiacun more than a metre across and thick enough to resemble natural stone. Slag is waste, but for archaeologists it is also a technical record. Its shape and internal texture can help researchers identify how furnaces were built and how molten material was released. The discarded material makes the industrial scale of an ancient landscape visible.
A poem beside the evidence
Li Bai’s verse about blazing copper furnaces is included by the municipal account, linking the metalworking landscape to a poetic memory of heat, night and labor. The poem is not a production record; the mine shafts and slag are. Keeping the two kinds of evidence distinct makes their pairing stronger. One helps us imagine how the furnaces entered local memory, while the other lets us examine the physical remains of extraction and smelting. Tongling’s copper story is therefore both a history of technology and a landscape repeatedly altered by work.