[Big read] From wartime shelters to hotpot havens: Chongqing’s underground reinvention

(Edited and refined by Candice Chan, with the assistance of AI translation. All photos by Liu Liu unless otherwise stated.)

Measuring six metres high and six metres wide, the air raid shelter stretches as far as the eye can see. More than 200 hotpot tables fill a cavernous space of around 4,000 square metres, where an air of mystery mingles with the lively bustle of diners to create a dining experience unlike any other.

Hotpot restaurants housed in Chongqing’s air raid shelters have been a distinctive feature of the city for decades, drawing growing numbers of visitors from other parts of China and overseas. Yet many diners may be unaware that the very place where they are enjoying their meal was once an important, highly secretive military facility.

The “Underground City” (地下之城), a network of air raid shelters in Chongqing’s Liangjiang New Area, was originally built in the 1970s by Chang’an Ordnance Factory, a long-established Chinese military manufacturer. After remaining closed to the public and shrouded in secrecy for nearly 50 years, the site was leased to a private company. Three years ago, it was transformed into a commercial complex housing hotpot restaurants, teahouses and a market selling agricultural produce to support local farmers.

(English closed captions are available for the above video.)

Wang Jing, marketing director of Underground City, told Lianhe Zaobao (LHZB) that the shelters’ origins as an arms factory are a major part of their appeal. The priority during redevelopment was therefore to preserve the original character of the military facility while adapting it for new uses.

In the 1960s and 1970s, amid deteriorating Sino-Soviet relations, the escalating Vietnam War and mounting international security tensions, China designated inland regions such as Yunnan, Guizhou and Sichuan as strategically important “Third Front” areas in preparation for a possible war. It subsequently embarked on a massive programme of industrial and infrastructure development in these regions, known as the “Third Front Construction” campaign.

Chongqing was one of the campaign’s major centres, with numerous military manufacturing, machinery and other industrial projects established there. In line with the principles of building near mountains, dispersing facilities and keeping them concealed, some factories and supporting infrastructure were constructed deep inside mountains, creating underground complexes comprising workshops, warehouses and protective structures.

The 816 Project in Fuling, east of central Chongqing, is one of the most remarkable underground complexes built during the Third Front campaign. Construction of the nuclear military facility began in 1966, with tens of thousands of military personnel and civilians taking part over the years.

Covering a total area of about 104,000 square metres, the complex comprises 18 large caverns and over 130 tunnels, connecting passages and other structures. It is considered one of the world’s largest man-made underground complexes.

Construction was halted in 1984 following a shift in China’s national strategy. The facility remained classified for many years before being approved for declassification in 2002. It eventually opened to the public as a tourist attraction in 2010.

Instrument rooms, a nuclear power generation hall, the base of a reactor and water diversion tunnels — these once top-secret military spaces have since been restored and transformed into public attractions, complete with lighting, sound effects and digital displays.

Slogans such as “Move mountains, conquer nature” and “Overcome difficulties, the enemy quails” can still be seen on the walls. These words, unmistakably of their time, offer a glimpse of the fervour for construction and the atmosphere of military preparedness that prevailed during those years.

Over 1,600 air raid shelters built during World War II

Chongqing’s terrain and history have left it with an extensive network of air raid shelters scattered across the city. Apart from those built during the Third Front campaign, many date back to the Second World War (WWII). Compared with the relatively orderly structures of the Third Front era, these older shelters tend to be more cramped and rudimentary.

Following the outbreak of full-scale war between China and Japan in 1937, Chongqing, which served as the wartime capital of the Nationalist government, endured sustained Japanese aerial bombardment.

Zhou Yong, honorary president of the Chongqing History Research Association, said the city needed air raid shelters at the time. Besides government-led construction and renovation, businesses and individuals were mobilised to dig shelters throughout the city, eventually creating enough space to accommodate 400,000 people.

“It was the largest underground air defence system in the world, bar none,” he said.

According to statistics, during the five years of intensive Japanese bombing, the number of air raid shelters in Chongqing grew from just over 50 to more than 1,600. They allowed ordinary residents to maintain some semblance of normal life and continue working despite the devastation of war; even university entrance examinations were held inside them.

According to a book on the Shaci district in Chongqing during WWII (《抗战时期的陪都沙磁文化区》, lit. The Shaci Cultural District in the Wartime Provisional Capital), students lit kerosene lamps to continue studying inside air raid shelters during Japanese bombing raids in 1941. When air raid sirens sounded during university entrance examinations, candidates would calmly make their way into the shelters to sit their papers.

However, limited funds and tight construction schedules meant that some shelters were poorly equipped. One air raid tunnel near Shibati in Yuzhong district was only about two metres wide and two metres high. According to China’s WWII memorial website, the original entrance was very low, with a steep flight of steps descending deep underground, followed by several sharp bends.

On 5 June 1941, Japanese forces launched a large-scale air raid on Chongqing. Nearly 10,000 people crowded into the shelter, which could accommodate no more than 5,000. Poor ventilation, severe oxygen deprivation, overcrowding and trampling resulted in heavy casualties in what became known as the “June 5 Tunnel Tragedy”.

The site of the tragedy has been preserved amid the bustling tourist areas of Shibati and Jiaochangkou, a reminder of Chongqing’s wartime past.

Difficult to renovate, impossible to replicate

Zhou recalled that as early as the 1980s and 1990s, an air raid shelter beneath Chongqing’s Jiefangbei area had been converted into an underground shopping centre. A number of “cave hotpot” restaurants subsequently sprang up, followed by wine cellars, museums and other establishments.

But converting decades-old air raid shelters into commercial premises is no straightforward task, given their age and unusual structures.

Zhou explained that most shelters have exposed rock surfaces that need to be lined with building materials, while the uneven widths of their interiors present further challenges.

“It takes quite a bit of work to make them usable,” he said.

Jun Ge Bookshop (军哥书屋) in Huangjueping in Jiulongpo district moved from a single-storey building into an air raid shelter around 2021.

Its owner, Gou Jun, said the underground environment was relatively damp. After relocating, the bookshop had its books specially wrapped in moisture-proof plastic, installed a fresh-air ventilation system and upgraded its electrical wiring. Renovations cost between 200,000 and 300,000 RMB (US$30,000 to US$45,000).

“Fairy Cave” (神仙洞), on Pipa Mountain in Yuzhong District, is an air raid shelter created by enlarging a natural cave. Musician Zhang Jiyao has turned it into a music venue, noting that renovating an air raid shelter is far more complicated than fitting out an ordinary commercial space.

He explained that caves like this first require structural reinforcement of their walls and the installation of more extensive ventilation systems, while the high humidity also means musical instruments must be kept in specialised moisture-controlled storage.

Wang recalled that during the redevelopment of Underground City, construction workers dug several metres into the ground to install sewage and exhaust systems. The excavated areas were then filled in before water, electricity and lighting facilities were installed. The work took more than three months.

She said mushrooms had previously been cultivated inside the caves, and large amounts of residual fungal growth were discovered during renovation.

“Dealing with it was a real headache. We couldn’t simply throw it away because the fungi might grow into new mushrooms and spread elsewhere.”

Nevertheless, air raid shelters offer distinct advantages. Apart from lower rents, they remain warm in winter and cool in summer, maintaining a temperature of around 25 degrees Celsius throughout the year. For Chongqing, a city notorious for its sweltering summers and nicknamed one of China’s “furnaces”, such a naturally temperature-controlled environment is a considerable asset.

Zhou recalled that years ago, some cinemas took advantage of the cool air inside air raid shelters, pumping it into their auditoriums during summer to keep audiences comfortable.

For today’s business operators, however, an even greater commercial advantage lies in the shelters’ rarity and the fact that they cannot be replicated.

Zhang said: “This is the sort of thing that happens by chance in a city. You can’t simply build another one today.”

Gou believes another advantage is that air raid shelters “cannot be moved”, making it less likely that businesses operating inside them will be forced to relocate because of demolition or redevelopment.

Rui Meng, a professor of finance and accounting at China Europe International Business School, said Chinese consumers are gradually shifting from material purchases to spending on unique experiences. Much of the appeal, he explained, lies in the contrast and rarity of such spaces.

“You can open a cafe in practically any shopping district, but you can’t find an air raid shelter cafe just anywhere.”

Liu Simin, a council member of the Beijing Tourism Society, also noted that air raid shelters are rare across China. Turning them into distinctive commercial spaces such as hotpot restaurants and bookshops represents a highly recognisable form of innovation in culture and tourism, while breathing new life into old historical sites.

“The immersive experience of dining or shopping in a cave offers visitors both novelty and something they cannot easily find anywhere else. That makes it naturally appealing and easy to promote,” he said.

Familiar gathering places, a source of reassurance

For Chongqing residents, air raid shelters are not trendy attractions to visit and photograph, but part of the city’s collective memory, steeped in the familiar sights and sounds of neighbourhood life.

A Chongqing history and culture enthusiast surnamed Zhang, who was born in the 1980s, runs a nostalgia-themed social media account. He regularly shares posts about the city’s distinctive streets and local food on Xiaohongshu, and knows its air raid shelters — their locations, layouts and purposes — like the back of his hand.

“I’ve lived here all my life, so air raid shelters really aren’t anything unusual to us. They’re just part of everyday life. There were shelters near our homes when we were growing up,” he said.

Like many of his generation, Zhang played hide-and-seek inside air raid shelters as a child. His playmates were children from neighbouring households, and they would also gather in the shelters to escape the heat and share meals.

“These places were very much a part of everyday neighbourhood life,” he said.

Since 2003, some of Chongqing’s air raid shelters have been opened to residents during the sweltering months from June to September each year. People living nearby bring their own stools into the shelters to enjoy the “natural air conditioning”.

Facilities have steadily improved over the years. Many of these public cooling shelters now have tables, chairs and tea, while some also provide newspapers, books and televisions, turning them into places where residents can chat, play cards and while away the hours.

That same sense of familiarity is part of the charm of the increasingly popular Jun Ge Bookshop. While visitors from outside Chongqing may regard it as a trendy, social media-famous bookshop, local residents see it as a familiar, laid-back place to spend their free time.

One weekend afternoon, a nearby resident surnamed Liu arrived at the bookshop and headed straight for the owner to say hello and exchange a few words. He then scanned a QR code to pay five RMB for a cup of eagle tea, a local herbal drink, before settling down to play chess with a companion.

He told me there was nothing particularly special about spending time in an air raid shelter, but he enjoyed the easy-going, relaxed atmosphere.

Gou said the bookshop was hardly an upmarket establishment, but it offered customers “a place where they can really unwind”.

“Once you step inside, it feels like catching up with an old friend,” he said.

Air raid shelters also play a practical role in Chongqing’s transport network.

In Jiefangbei, at the heart of the city, a 7.5-kilometre underground ring road with seven entrances and exits connects 28 underground car parks in the area. The tunnel serves for transport, parking and protection, and is used by almost everyone who drives to Jiefangbei.

But as air raid shelters become part of everyday life, does their historical significance still matter?

For Gou, the answer is an emphatic yes. He likened the shelters to a suit of armour that offers protection, reassurance and a measure of deterrence.

“Even if war breaks out, I’m not afraid. I know I’m protected,” he said.

Preserving history while creating new experiences

In recent years, China has seen a growing trend of old spaces lending themselves to new consumption. Air raid shelters aside, disused factories, warehouses and other buildings once used for manufacturing and storage have been given new leases of life as commercial venues.

Examples include cafes housed in former grain warehouses in Shanghai, the Dongjiao Memory district in Chengdu, and a cultural district developed from an old printing factory in Guizhou. These places, each bearing the imprint of a bygone era, have been transformed into popular new destinations for young people.

China Europe International Business School’s Rui said many Chinese cities are seeing the emergence of a new economy built around distinctive spaces. Although it may not be particularly large in scale, the trend reflects a broader shift in consumer demand.

He explained that conventional commercial spaces tend to follow standardised design principles, leaving them looking increasingly alike and making consumers weary of the same old settings.

By contrast, unusual spaces come with stories of their own. Old factories retain traces of the industrial age, while air raid shelters possess an inherent sense of mystery. Such qualities make them particularly appealing to today’s consumers.

However, he cautioned: “The setting is only what gets people through the door. If the products and services don’t live up to expectations, even the most unusual place will eventually lose its appeal.”

Beijing Tourism Society’s Liu pointed out that the current wave of redevelopment has also brought problems, including the dilution of historical significance, an overreliance on gimmicks and growing similarities between projects.

Many developments simply copy formulas that have proved popular on social media, placing excessive emphasis on entertainment at the expense of cultural substance and deeper historical meaning.

He argued that redevelopment should prioritise preserving the original character of these sites and putting culture at the heart of the experience, rather than merely recreating an attractive setting. Their histories should be woven into the new commercial spaces, allowing visitors to engage with the stories behind them.

Chongqing History Research Association’s Zhou similarly believes that air raid shelters should be put to a variety of uses in peacetime, but their history and connection to war must never be forgotten.

“Put up a stone plaque nearby, or embed one in the wall, explaining how the shelter came about and what purpose it once served. We cannot let people forget,” he said.

He emphasised: “Enriching these places with cultural and historical significance is, in itself, an effective way to improve the quality of cultural tourism.”

This article was first published in Lianhe Zaobao as “军事基地战时避难所变身消费空间 重庆防空洞释放新活力”.

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