Archaeologists found several liters of 2,300-year-old beer in a Chinese tomb

By: Elora Bain

What did the last drink offered to the dead look like in ancient China? A recent archaeological discovery provides the beginning of an answer. In the Shanjiabao cemetery in northern China, researchers have unearthed a bronze bottle around 2,300 years old, still containing nearly 3.7 liters of an alcoholic liquid. An astonishing funerary vestige that we advise you not to taste if you want to avoid some unfortunate mishaps.

The site is located near the city of Guyuan in the Ningxia autonomous region, just two kilometers from a portion of the Great Wall of China. The tomb itself dates back to the late Warring States period (475–221 BC), an era marked by violent conflicts between rival states that would end with the unification of China under the Qin dynasty. Despite wars and rebellions, this period was also a time of intellectual ferment, particularly with the rise of Confucianism, recalls an article in IFL Science.

In this turbulent historical context, archaeologists discovered in one of the tombs a bronze bottle with a neck shaped like a garlic clove. Inside: a clear liquid, slightly tinged with blue-green and completely odorless. The exact measured volume reaches 3,740 milliliters, making it a remarkably well-preserved quantity for such ancient contents.

To understand the nature of this liquid, the researchers took a few samples as well as residues present in the container. Chemical analyzes revealed the presence of more than 2,400 organic compounds, strongly suggesting that it was an alcoholic beverage.

Microscopic examination confirmed this hypothesis: starch grains, phytoliths – mineral remains indicating the presence of plants – and traces of yeast were identified. Furthermore, the presence of common millet and cereals from the group Triticeae (like wheat or barley) indicates that it was a fermented drink made from cereals, rather than a wine made from fruit. In other words, it looks a lot like beer.

Acidic and spicy

As for its taste, it would undoubtedly have surprised modern beer lovers. Analyzes show a high concentration of lactic, oxalic and tartaric acid, which suggests an acidic and spicy flavor, surely reminiscent of beers. sour popular in recent years by amateurs. It is, however, possible that these characteristics are partly due to chemical transformations linked to time: more than two millennia spent in a tomb leaves traces.

This discovery completes the long history of beer and fermented drinks. These appeared around the time humans began practicing agriculture, around 12,000 years ago. Since the first domesticated crops were grasses, they naturally led to the production of grains like wheat and barley, the basic ingredients of many fermented beverages.

A classic hypothesis is that fermentation was discovered accidentally when wet cereals were left in the open air, allowing wild yeasts to transform sugars into alcohol. But a bolder theory suggests the opposite: Some researchers believe that beer production may have been one of the original motivations for agriculture. In other words, civilization was not born from the need to produce bread, but from the desire to brew alcohol.

Whether it preceded or followed agriculture, beer appears to have arisen independently in several regions of the world, a fascinating example of evolutionary convergence. In some societies it was used for rituals and spiritual practices, while in others it was a relatively safe source of energy to consume, often more reliable than contaminated water.

The discovery of Shanjiabao illustrates the ancient, deep and sometimes ambivalent relationship that humanity has with alcohol. Offering a drink to a deceased person could be a symbolic gesture, or simply a habit rooted in daily life. Unless, more simply, this person particularly appreciated beer during their lifetime.

Elora Bain

Elora Bain

I'm the editor-in-chief here at News Maven, and a proud Charlotte native with a deep love for local stories that carry national weight. I believe great journalism starts with listening — to people, to communities, to nuance. Whether I’m editing a political deep dive or writing about food culture in the South, I’m always chasing clarity, not clicks.