Urban Explorers Flock to China's Abandoned Buildings Despite Dangers

Urban exploration, or "urbex," has found a new home in China, where crumbling structures and unfinished mega-projects offer adventurers a unique escape from the monotony of city life. Once primarily associated with Western thrill-seekers, this underground hobby is gaining traction among young Chinese urbanites who are eager to document the eerie beauty of abandoned spaces.

Xu Pengcheng, a 29-year-old tech worker from Qingdao, has become something of an urbex celebrity. With hundreds of thousands of followers drawn to his haunting photographs of forgotten schools, empty cinemas, and derelict hotels, he captures more than just decaying architecture — he captures imagination. "When people see these images, they find them incredibly fresh and fascinating," Xu explains. "The realization that so many abandoned buildings exist — and that they can photograph so beautifully — naturally captures attention."

A recent expedition led by Xu took place at the outskirts of Shanghai, where he and his crew explored a deserted hotel that resembled a prefabricated medieval castle from the outside. Inside, years of abandonment were evident — dusty hallways, scattered remnants of daily life like laundry sheets and dinner plates, and even props left behind from previous photoshoots. One particularly striking detail was the spray-painted slogan “Long Live Chairman Mao” on a ballroom wall, a stark reminder of shifting times and forgotten ambitions.

China’s prolonged property market crisis has resulted in countless half-finished developments across major cities. These empty shells have become playgrounds for explorers. According to Brin Connal, a seasoned British explorer based in China, such sites are rare in Europe. "In China, there's a lot of these places which are unfinished," he observes.

One infamous example is the Pentagon Mall in Shanghai’s Pudong district. Originally intended as a massive commercial complex, it came close to completion in 2009 before funding dried up. Today, its corridors echo with footsteps of curious visitors, and messages scrawled on walls serve as informal guestbooks. Sean, a Shanghai resident who prefers to remain anonymous, calls this phenomenon "really special." He notes the strong sense of community among local explorers, emphasizing how welcoming and collaborative the scene has become.

Despite its growing popularity, urban exploration remains a legally ambiguous activity. Trespassing laws apply in China, just as they do in the West, and fines are possible. Safety concerns also loom large — unstable structures, exposed wiring, and aggressive security personnel pose real risks. As Xu points out, "Firstly, you might face the risk of trespassing illegally. Secondly, private properties may have security guards or be completely sealed off. These locations often involve hazards like no electricity or lighting, structural damage, and injuries from construction materials like exposed nails."

Chinese social media platforms like Xiaohongshu (often compared to Instagram) have started issuing warnings about the dangers of exploring abandoned sites. Yet, despite these cautionary messages, interest continues to grow. For some, urbex is not just about adventure or photography — it’s a form of escape. Model Mao Yi, who frequently joins exploration trips, sees it as a break from the relentless pace of modern urban life. "Living in these sprawling metropolises of steel and concrete, we've grown familiar with the routines of daily life," she says. "Urban exploration reminds us that there’s still mystery and beauty hidden just beyond the skyline."

As the movement expands, so too does its culture. Explorers follow an unofficial code: take nothing, leave nothing. But beyond that simple rule lies a deeper appreciation for forgotten spaces — places that once buzzed with life but now stand silent, waiting to be rediscovered.