In Chongqing’s Beibei District, designer Yu Shan turns his own apartment into a quiet “forest home”, where work, travel and everyday rituals all flow back to one simple idea: to feel at ease.
Set in Longjin Xuefu in Chongqing’s Beibei District, Yu Shan’s Home, designed by Chongqing-based studio ONE SOUL, is less about show and more about how two people really live. Originally a standard four-bedroom layout, it has been completely opened up and reworked into a generous one-bedroom retreat for a couple who are often on the road and wanted somewhere they could truly switch off.
For Yu Shan, a home is a vessel that grows with its owners, not a fixed statement. He often recalls the quilt from his childhood that hid toys, snacks and tiny treasures — a private world he could always return to. That memory became the seed of this project: instead of more rooms, he wanted more openness, more air, more room for life to unfold. All four bedrooms were dismantled to create a continuous, fluid interior, while a compact timber cabin in the side garden subtly divides the outdoors into a sunny front orchard and a quieter, woodland-like rear garden.
Inside, work and life overlap in a relaxed, unforced way. By the living room, a workspace facing the front yard catches daylight throughout the day and anchors the more focused, detail-driven side of their practice. A second, looser study sits next to the bathtub, ready for ideas that surface in moments of rest — a notebook is always within reach. This duality feels very natural to the couple: structured when needed, free when it matters.
Objects here are treated almost like long-term house guests. Instead of following a rigid style, the couple surround themselves with things they genuinely love: 1980s pieces by Dieter Rams, warm B&O sound systems, and contemporary furniture from Roche Bobois and Ligne Roset all have a place, but none of them shout. Together, they create a layered, quietly confident atmosphere that feels collected over time rather than styled for show.
Throughout the home, small design moves gently shift the mood. In the living room, traditional curtains are replaced with sliding screens inspired by Japanese yukimi shoji, so the garden reads like a series of framed stills. The kitchen ceiling in gradient stainless steel subtly echoes old kitchens where years of cooking left a soft ombré on the walls. Modular stools designed for gatherings transform into sculptural “columns” in the study when they are not in use, their carved surfaces revealing the touch of the artisan’s hand. Elsewhere, lighting pieces and a tea table take cues from birds nesting in the garden, an extendable bedside cabinet hides linens, and a translucent cabinet adapted from an artist’s folding screen balances display and storage.
Underfoot, black limestone flooring ties everything together with a calm, tactile base. Its warm yet muted tone draws the eye towards the garden, which is intentionally left slightly wild. Following a “natural growth” philosophy, plants, birds and insects are allowed to find their own rhythm, turning the garden into a living canvas that changes subtly day by day.
Ultimately, the home is the result of an intuitive partnership. His clear spatial planning and her sensitivity to furniture and objects weave rationality and emotion into one coherent story. For them, home is not about squeezing in more functions, but about being honest with how they actually live — so that every corner, from the bathtub study to the small cabin outside, quietly carries a piece of their life together.
Photo courtesy of Liu Wen
