Chapter Seventy-One: The Terms Are Negotiable

In the blink of an eye, a week had passed since the demolition notice was issued.

In his previous life, although Zhao Zejun had experienced demolition, he was then a true "student," with Zhao Tao and his wife handling most of the negotiations and running around. Zhao Zejun mostly played the part of a bystander, listening to stories. But in this life, being in the midst of it all, Zhao Zejun truly understood what "swift and decisive action" meant. Several survey and statistics teams entered Gaogang Village at once, working day and night, and in less than a week, they had completed the measurement and registration of all the houses.

The shanty houses Zhao Zejun owned were still the same in number: ten medium-sized units, one large, and one small. However, after expansion, their area nearly doubled. All ten medium units exceeded the basic threshold of forty-five square meters, and the original pseudo-quadrangle courtyard now averaged nearly sixty square meters. The expanded two-story building was so large that it could not be calculated by conventional means.

Since the survey teams entered the village, the residents gathered daily in groups outside their homes, discussing strategies for negotiating with the demolition office. Zhao Zejun was no exception; every evening, he sat in the courtyard of his two-story house, chatting about demolition with a crowd of elderly men and women.

In truth, they could not reason with the demolition office—the officials had the advantage, and the villagers were at their mercy.

To be fair, the conditions offered for this demolition were extremely generous. Even after deductions, the compensation was beyond reproach: exchanging a dilapidated shanty for a commercial apartment several times larger was an offer that could not be faulted.

In the end, Zhao Zejun instilled a simple strategy in the elders: complain.

Do not argue about whether the conditions are good or bad, or where there are problems—whenever you meet an official, just pour out your woes. Say you are old and inconvenienced, that you have lived here your whole life and have deep emotional ties, that your family is poor... In short, do not be reasonable.

That day, just as he returned to the house, Zhao Zejun saw Old Li from the demolition office surrounded by a crowd of elderly people. The courtyard was in an uproar, with several elderly women clinging to him like refugees.

Seeing Zhao Zejun, Old Li squeezed out of the crowd in desperation, grabbed him as if fleeing, and hurried upstairs.

“How did the talks go?” Zhao Zejun asked with a smile.

“These old comrades are impossible to reason with! You talk policy, they talk history; you talk sense, they complain. Demolition isn’t charity work—you can’t expect to solve all their problems in one go!” Old Li said, his face dark.

As he opened the door, Zhao Zejun glanced at Old Li and said calmly, “Do these people even have a ‘later life’? If there were no demolition, they would live out their remaining years here in peace.”

Old Li, caught by Zhao Zejun’s sharp remark, laughed awkwardly. “Alright, alright, let’s talk about your situation. I came specifically to see you.”

Zhao Zejun entered the temporary office of Zejian Company, sat down, and said, “I’m not in a hurry, Brother Li. How’s work progressing lately?”

“Quite smoothly, over a hundred households are willing to hand over their keys,” Old Li replied leisurely.

He was not exaggerating—indeed, over a hundred households had agreed to relocate under the current compensation terms and had already handed in their keys.

However, according to Zhao Zejun’s investigation, about half of these were warehouses belonging to Huayang Group, which supported municipal projects and was the first to move out. The rest were people like Ren Bida, who had long ceased living in Gaogang Village, had better jobs elsewhere, and neither time nor energy to haggle with the demolition office.

In other words, while the demolition seemed to be progressing smoothly on the surface, the vast majority of actual residents of Gaogang Village were still waiting and watching.

In reality, the demolition work had entered a minor stalemate; someone needed to set an example to break the deadlock.

Everyone knew what was really going on, but Zhao Zejun did not expose Old Li. Instead, he asked, “So what brings you here today?”

“Of course, it’s about the demolition,” Old Li said.

Noticing an ashtray on Zhao Zejun’s desk, he politely offered him a cigarette. “You have over ten houses—when do you plan to move?”

Zhao Zejun took the cigarette, tapped it on the table, and said, “Old Li, it’s not easy.”

“What’s not easy? The demolition notice spells everything out plainly—do what needs to be done. With your houses and this building, you’re guaranteed over ten new apartments, and I can try to get you even more. Isn’t that satisfactory?”

“It’s not that I’m dissatisfied,” Zhao Zejun shook his head. “You’ve seen the situation here—all my houses are occupied by elderly people. If I agree to move out now, where will they live? To be honest, these old comrades beg me every day to delay moving until they’ve reached an agreement with the demolition office and found somewhere to stay. These people are ones I rescued—I can’t just throw them out, can I?”

Old Li’s mood now was nearly identical to how Zhao Zejun felt when he’d earlier claimed “work was progressing smoothly”—they both knew the truth. Whether the elders would move depended entirely on Zhao Zejun.

He laughed, “That’s not hard—just have them all come to the demolition office to sign the agreement. The leaders said last time, their houses count. Once they sign, the demolition office will immediately issue rent compensation, and everyone can move, including you.”

“I’ve tried to get them to go, but they refuse.”

“Why?” Old Li asked.

Zhao Zejun sighed, “You know the inside story, Old Li. You tell me—who would accept these compensation terms?”

“What inside story do I know?!” Old Li protested, glaring. “Besides, a ten or twenty square meter shanty turning into at least a forty-five square meter apartment—isn’t that good enough? This is demolition, not charity. You can’t expect demolition to make people rich—otherwise, that’s just greed!”

“Old Li, your point makes sense, but think about it: these people have been living here quite comfortably. The conditions are rough, but life is manageable. None of them begged for demolition—it’s Baoye Company that wants profit, the city wants development, and you came to them. Now, demolition means they have to move, find housing, live in unfamiliar places for years, then move again and renovate. Even for someone young like me, moving and renovating is exhausting. How can those elderly, childless men and women endure it?”

Old Li opened his mouth to argue, but Zhao Zejun waved him off, looking helpless. “Old Li, talking to me is pointless. If you can persuade those elderly people, I’ll move too—and I’ll thank you for it.”

After all this, their conversation was going in circles, with no solution in sight. Old Li remembered he had a task to accomplish that day, stubbed out his half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray, walked over and closed the door.

“Zhao, let’s be frank. Those elderly people listen to you. Convince them. If you can persuade those old folks and move with them, the terms are negotiable.”