Sourced from the Dingshu furnace
Michael Zhan first visited the Dingshu workshops in spring 2025, wandering narrow alleyways where the air smelled of wet clay and pine smoke. The zhuni clay here is a legend — a dense, iron-rich zisha worked in Yixing since the Ming dynasty. This xishi pot was thrown by a third-generation potter whose family has worked the same clay seam for three generations.
Michael watched him press the soft, orange-hued clay into a slab, then shape it on a wheel that his grandfather built. The xishi shape is named after the ancient beauty Xi Shi — round, supple, feminine. At 80ml, it’s a single-session marvel. The lid fits with a whisper-soft suction, a sign of master craftsmanship.
After shaping, the pot dried in the sun for two weeks before entering the dragon kiln. The reduction firing brings out the zhuni’s characteristic orange-red patina, which will deepen with use. Each pot bears a tiny chop on the base — the maker’s mark — and a faint scent of smoke that vanishes after the first rinse.
Michael carried a dozen of these back to the warehouse, wrapped in rice paper. This one is the pick of the lot: the spout pours a clean, arching stream without a single drip, and the handle sits balanced in the hand. Brewed daily with floral oolongs, the tea comes out rounder, sweeter, with none of the metallic edge you sometimes get from porcelain.