Paper that endures
Tucked away in another quiet alley is the Shoudao Lijiang Folk Handicraft Art Museum, where He Xiuchang, an inheritor of Dongba papermaking, has practiced the craft for over 30 years.
The paper begins with a humble shrub called raohua (Wikstroemia canescens), which grows only on limestone slopes at an elevation of around 2,200 meters above sea level in the Jinsha River valley.
"Higher or lower, it won't survive," He says.
Left untouched, the shrub lives for about 13 to 15 years before naturally dying. Harvested earlier, however, it sprouts again. "It's just like cutting scallions," he says.
Transforming the bark into paper requires at least 34 steps, including stripping, boiling, washing, fermenting, and pounding the fibers into pulp, before forming each sheet by hand.
"The traditional method had more than 90 steps," He says. "If I still followed every one of them, a single sheet would cost 500 yuan ($75). No one would buy it."
Today, a sheet sells for around 68 yuan.
Small black specks occasionally visible in the paper are fragments of outer bark that remain after processing. "They'll disappear once you write with black ink," he says.
Dongba paper is prized for three distinctive qualities. Insects rarely damage it because the plant itself contains medicinal compounds. It can remain intact after prolonged water immersion and, when burned, it releases a fragrance resembling temple incense.
The craft is deeply personal to him.
He recalls that years ago, after a traditional Chinese medicine researcher recommended raohua as a herbal remedy, his seriously ill mother drank an infusion made from the plant. He believes it helped her recover, strengthening his appreciation for the shrub that has sustained both his family and his craft.
Today, Dongba paper has found new uses beyond calligraphy and ancient manuscripts. Artists paint on it, designers incorporate it into creative products, and one of He's students has even used it as a base for embroidery. In 2003, the ancient Dongba manuscripts, many of which were written on this handmade paper, were inscribed on UNESCO's Memory of the World Register.
He hopes to pass the craft to a new generation. "I'm willing to teach," he says.
A permanent residence
Unlike many historical districts that have gradually become open-air museums, the Old Town of Lijiang remains a functioning community.
More than 25,000 original residents continue to live within the ancient town alongside more than 5,000 businesses. In 2025, it welcomed over 24 million visitors. During the 2026 Spring Festival holiday alone, arrivals exceeded 2.4 million, with a single-day record of more than 346,000, according to local authorities.
Many newcomers have also made the Old Town their permanent home. A cafe owner from North China's Tianjin, a merchant from Wuhan in Central China's Hubei province and a clothing shop owner from Wenzhou in eastern China's Zhejiang province all arrived years ago intending to stay briefly, only to remain.
For Mu Li, the water still runs the same way it did when she was a child. What has changed, she says, is the understanding that a historical site is not preserved by walls and regulations alone.
"People are the soul of this town," Mu says. "We have to respect the market forces that have always been part of this place, but we also have to keep it alive — not as a relic, but as a home."
