Xiangluju Encyclopedia: What Does "Three Steamings, Nine Boilings, and Eighteen Dryings" Mean?
Gambiered Canton Crepe Craftsmanship

What is "Three Steaming, Nine Boiling, and Eighteen Sun-Drying"?

2890Browse
2026-05-18

The core craft of Ganpin Sha refers to the collective term for dozens of complex processes, including key steps such as indigo dyeing, sun-dyeing, mud treatment, and water washing, taking nearly a year to complete.

Three Steams, Nine Boils, Eighteen Dries: The Time Code of a Bolt of Shengyun Sha

Have you heard of the "three steams, nine boils, eighteen sun-dryings" process?

This is not a dish.

Method of making a piece of fabric.

It is the time code unique to Yunsha fabric.

What do these seven characters mean?

"Three steams, nine boils, and eighteen sun-dryings"—this is the Cantonese folk summary of the yunsha dyeing and finishing process.

Steam three times.

Boil nine times.

晒十八次。

But the real production process goes far beyond these numbers.

Creating a single bolt of Xiangyunsha involves 36 complete steps. From the raw fabric entering the dye vat to the finished cloth emerging from the river, the entire process takes several months. Every step is done by hand and relies entirely on nature.

"Three steams, nine boils, eighteen sun-dries"—just seven words that condense the hardest, most grueling, and least shortcut-friendly parts of the craft, passed down through generations by word of mouth.

Thirty-six processes, four core essentials.

Break it down: everything complex revolves around four actions—

Indigo Dyeing: The First Dialogue Between Persimmon Bark and Silk

Premium raw silk, dipped in rhubarb dye.

Not once. Repeatedly.

Soak, lift out, wring, and soak again. One more time. And another. And another.

What is Dyer's Galbulimma?

A tuber of a plant growing in the mountains of Lingnan. Its exterior is rough, but when cut open, it reveals deep brown flesh. When juiced, it emits a fragrant aroma—a herbal, earthy scent that is neither sweet nor cloying.

It is this very juice that has been used to dye silk for thousands of years.

After repeated soaking, the plant's color gradually seeped into the silk. It started as a pale yellow, deepening and penetrating further with each soak until the very core of the fibers was thoroughly dyed by the dye from the Chinese yam tuber.

At this stage, the silk has transformed from soft to crisp. Touching it reveals a structured, almost skeletal feel.

But that's not enough.

Sheung Leng: The Sun Is the World's Oldest Dye Vat

Silk dyed with rhubarb juice must be sun-dried, not air-dried in the shade.

Where should I post it?

Do not place on shelves. Do not place on stone slabs.

Lay on the grass.

In the old drying yards of Shunde grows a grass known as "creeping mouse grass." Standing just 5 cm tall, it is soft yet firm, dense but breathable. Generations of shilang craftsmen tested countless varieties before settling on this one.

Why dry it on the grass?

Because grass is elastic and breathable. Its water absorption rate is just right—not too fast, not too slow. Silk laid over the grass receives even sunlight exposure without risk of heat damage.

Once isn't enough. Soak, then dry. Soak again, dry again.

The sun repeatedly sears the silk. The color shifts from pale yellow to golden, then to ochre red—the hue of rhubarb—locked in layer by layer by the sun.

This color has its own name.

Buckthorn Brown.

On Xiangluju's palette, it is captured as #9C6B3E.

A hue no dye can replicate. It takes sunlight, fresh grass, nutgall roots, and time—these four elements combined—to create this color.

Mud Coating: A Silent Chemical Reaction

After soaking and drying, the silk has developed its base color.

But what truly makes Kaido silk, Kaido silk—there's one final touch that completes it.

Apply river mud.

Shunde is crisscrossed by waterways. The iron-rich, unpolluted river silt is dug up shovelful by shovelful.

A craftsman uses a wooden scraper to evenly spread river mud onto silk fabric.

This moment—

The tannins in the rhubarb root meet the iron ions in the river mud.

A quiet chemical change took place.

The front turned into a deep, inky black or a rich, earthy umber.

The reverse side retains the warm brown-yellow hue from the Rhodomyrtus tomentosa dye.

Identical—one side night, the other light.

This color has its own name.

River Mud Ink.

In the color system of Xiangluju, it is #3D4F5C.

Not pure black. It's an inky shade with blue-gray undertones, like the mud at the deepest part of a riverbed—settled for centuries into a quiet, deep darkness.

Washed and sun-dried: A daily practice.

Apply the mask, then rinse.

It's not a quick rinse. It's repeated washing in the river until all floating mud is completely removed.

Wash, then dry. Dry, then wash again. Wash, then soak. Soak, then dry once more.

Go in circles.

That's why it's called "Triple Steaming, Nine Cookings, and Eighteen Sun-Dryings."

Three steams aren't three times. Nine boils exceed nine cycles. Eighteen sun-dryings go beyond eighteen sessions.

These numbers are how ancient people described "countless times."

Every soak, every sun exposure, every rinse—

All etch time's mark upon silk.

No one can rush a piece of Kaiping silk.

It has its own rhythm.

Slow.

Slow.

Why must we rely on the weather?

Insiders say: Ganfan (Shanghai silk) is a fabric that "depends on the weather."

Available only on sunny days. Work suspended during rain.

Available only in summer. Closed during winter.

Sun晒 is essential to the process. After applying river mud and rinsing, sun exposure is required. Every rinse step must be followed by sun drying.

As an old craftsman from Shunde once said—

A good piece of Xiangyunsha carries the scent of sunlight.

Not rhetoric.

That's a fact.

Each piece of Xiangyunsha requires at least three months from start to finish. During the rainy season, six months is not considered too long.

In this era of "3-day shipping, 7-day delivery"—

Waiting three months for a bolt of fabric sounds like a joke.

But that is precisely what makes Shangyun Sha the most valuable.

It doesn't rush.

Time gave it to us.

Each one is a unique piece.

Because every step is done manually.

Because of the duration of each dyeing, the intensity of daily sun exposure, and the thickness of each layer of river mud—

Each is slightly different.

No two pieces of Shunde Gauze are exactly alike.

Every horse is one of a kind.

Every bolt has its own texture, color, and feel.

This is not a defect.

This is a mark left by the "hand."

Evidence left by "people."

— something machines can never imitate

Soul.

Three feet of cloth, a thousand years of heart.

"Three steams, nine boils, eighteen sun-dryings"—

It refers to a manufacturing process.

It's about an attitude.

One of the few things in this fast-paced era that still keeps time as a friend.

Xiangluju. Seventeen years.

We specialize in this fabric only.

Trust only this one rhythm.

Slow.

Less.

Old.

Not a step back. It's a choice.

We won't compromise quality for speed, nor efficiency for warmth.

Wear 36 steps of craftsmanship.

Wear a millennium of intangible cultural heritage in your everyday life.

This is Xiangluju.

Related Reading

  • [What is Xiangyunsha](/wiki/what-is-xiangyunsha) - Learn the basics
  • [Why Must Xiangyun Sha Use Lunjiao River Mud?](/wiki/why-lunjiao-river-mud) - Explore the impact of river mud on quality
  • [Impact of Shuliang on Gauze Quality](/wiki/shuliang-impact-on-quality) - Understand the importance of raw materials

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