The Dig Beneath the Modern City

Between December 2016 and July 2018, archaeologists conducted emergency excavations along the route of a new metro line in modern-day Xianyang, Shaanxi province—a city built atop the ruins of its ancient namesake, the Qin dynasty (221–206 BCE) capital. As construction crews prepared to pour concrete for subway tunnels, teams of archaeologists raced against time to document over 1,500 years of history hidden beneath the bustling streets. Their discoveries—from divination bones to epidemic graves—reveal unexpected glimpses into Qin-era rituals, Han-period dwellings, and even Song-dynasty tragedies.

Oracle Bones and Bronze Vessels: Traces of Qin Rituals

Among the most striking finds was a perforated plastron (turtle shell) used for pyromancy—the ancient practice of reading cracks formed by heated bones to predict the future. Zhang Yang, the lead archaeologist, noted its square perforations followed Western Zhou (1046–771 BCE) traditions but showed more precise craftsmanship, suggesting ritual evolution. Found in a Qin-era tomb, the artifact likely belonged to a court diviner serving Xianyang’s elite.

Equally remarkable was a sealed bronze zhong vessel containing 300ml of milky-white liquid—analyzed as fermented grain alcohol mixed with amino acids and starch particles. Such vessels, used in Zhou-style funerary rites, confirm historical accounts of Qin’s ritual continuity with earlier dynasties despite its reputation as a cultural rebel. “Nobody dared taste it,” Zhang admitted to reporters, citing potential copper toxicity. The find underscores how alcohol permeated Qin society, from ancestral sacrifices to daily life.

Houses of the Forgotten: Contrasting Qin Splendor and Han Hardship

The excavation exposed residential areas starkly different from Xianyang’s famed palaces. Semi-subterranean and ground-level dwellings—some with three rooms—dated from the Warring States period (475–221 BCE) through the early Han dynasty (202 BCE–220 CE). Their crude construction, featuring wooden floorboards unchanged for centuries, revealed the modest lives of artisans and laborers who sustained the imperial capital.

Archaeologists grew visibly frustrated when pressed to declare these “China’s first” such discoveries. As one researcher noted, similar dwellings had been found at Machikong village along the Chan River, proving architectural conservatism among Qin commoners. These homes, often overlooked in grand historical narratives, testify to the daily struggles behind the empire’s military triumphs.

A Cemetery of the Innocents: Tracing Ancient Epidemics

At the site’s periphery lay a haunting discovery: a Song-era (960–1279 CE) mass burial of nearly 200 individuals, over 60% children under ten. Fetal bones “thin as toothpicks,” pregnant women buried with unborn babies, and clustered infant graves suggested catastrophic mortality. Forensic analysis ruled out violence, pointing instead to li—a term ancient texts used for infectious diseases.

Historical records corroborate the tragedy. The Records of the Grand Historian documents plagues during King Xian of Qin’s reign (369 BCE) and秦始皇’s era (243 BCE), while Qing dynasty archives note an 1863 outbreak in Xianyang. The excavation revealed humanity’s perennial vulnerability—and resilience—against pandemics.

Qin’s Public Health Legacy: Quarantine Laws and Pediatric Care

Remarkably, the Qin state had developed sophisticated epidemic controls. Legal statutes from the Shuihudi bamboo slips (circa 217 BCE) mandated isolating the infected (“relocate them to li quarters”). One legal case describes villagers suing a man accused of “poison speech”—likely a contagious condition—showing early understanding of disease transmission.

The Qin also pioneered child welfare laws. Killing one’s offspring was punishable by execution, while orphans received state grain rations. Medical care advanced under figures like Bian Que, the legendary physician who established pediatrics in Xianyang after noting Qin’s “love for children.” These measures, echoing modern public health principles, challenge stereotypes of Qin as merely militaristic.

The Archaeologists’ Race Against Time

The dig was a logistical marathon. Teams worked nights under floodlights, with meals delivered to trenches. Volunteers included local heritage workers like Wang Baodong and even archaeologists’ family members—a testament to community dedication. The 2019 assault on Yangzhou archaeologists during a similar rescue excavation underscored the profession’s challenges.

As the metro project advanced, tensions flared between preservation and progress. “It was a battle fought to the last bullet,” one team member recalled. Yet their efforts earned rare recognition: construction firms later offered free subway passes to the archaeologists—a bittersweet gesture for those who remembered colleague Li Jingru, who passed away before seeing the completed line.

Enduring Shadows of the Past

From Qin diviners to Song plague victims, these layered discoveries complicate Xianyang’s identity. The “Longling Station” industrial zone, once thought exclusively Qin-era, now bears traces of continuous habitation into later dynasties. Like the Western Wei general Lu Chou (陆丑), whose tomb was another key find, these individuals form “the elongated shadow of the Qin empire”—connecting China’s past and present.

When the first metro trains rolled through tunnels flanked by ancient walls, they didn’t just traverse space but time. As one archaeologist mused: “Look out the windows—this is a tunnel through history itself.” The excavation, though hurried, proved that even in our rush toward the future, the past refuses to be buried.