Guilin’s “Gorgeous” Apartment: Reality vs. Brochure Buzz
Think of a picture‑perfect balcony overlooking the Li River, nothing but a breath‑fresh breeze and crystal‑clear sky. That’s the story those glossy brochures tried to sell to Ms. Xu. In reality, she’s wedged into a cramped windowless room that’s more “stuck in a forgotten basement” than a riverfront dream.
What Ms. Xu’s 55‑year‑old room actually looks like
- No paint. The walls still show the raw brick from the original construction.
- Every socket you see is actually a hole—no actual outlets.
- Gas, shower water, or running tap water? None of the above.
- Her daily routine? Ascending and descending multiple stair flights with a water bottle and a hose outside—because the building’s plumbing is a joke.
Even the essentials are a stretch
Her personal space is about as furnished as a one‑minute IKEA quick‑setup. A bed covered in a mosquito net, a handful of basic supplies, and a few plastic bottles scattered on the floor that never get filled. The entire complex—over 20 other buyers—shares a single, makeshift outdoor toilet. At midday, folks gather around a cafeteria‑style table in the courtyard; the only upgrade in their day is a chance to take a breath before heading back upstairs.
Why Xu and the others stuck in “rotting” apartments?
Saying “I was just investing our savings” does not feel comfy when walls are plastered with the word “unfinished.” These buyers either:
- Deliberately occupy incomplete projects to push developers into finishing up what they promised.
- Must live in thief‑scattered buildings due to financial constraints—many builders cut cuts and halt construction because China’s property slump has turned the market into a train‑station‑of‑Sailors‑in‑Pavement.
Back‑to‑back Numbers
In July, Shanghai E‑House Real Estate Research Institute noted that stalled projects filled 3.85 % of China’s housing market in the first half of 2022. That’s roughly 231 million square metres of unfinished concrete and plaster—more than enough for a city of 300 k citizens to get a decent bedroom per person.
Skeptics? You’ve got the right shoes for the job
Local administrations have introduced bailout funds but that just covers a portion of the debt. Buyers who paid deposits in advance and locked themselves into mortgages are stuck in a limbo, unsure whether to wait, fight or go to a nearby community centre for a living lesson on how to survive a living incomplete dream.
Mortgage strikes
China’s “unfinished apartment” revolt goes viral
Late June saw a wave of millions of renters and home‑buyers who, fed up with half‑finished buildings, posted on social media that they’d stop paying their mortgages. The protest spread to at least 100 cities, turning unfinished flats into a massive, almost embarrassing, takedown of the property market.
Why this matters
- 90 % of new homes in China are bought “off‑plan” while still under construction.
- One big Aussie‑version of a reality show: buyers are betting on the finish line that will never arrive.
- If developers can’t finish, the whole system collapses—transactions stall, trust in the government dips, and debt spirals go up.
Yan Yuejin, research director at Shanghai E‑House, warned that unsettled apartments aren’t just a pain for buyers; they can erode market confidence and trigger a domino effect on developer debts.
Beyond construction: China’s property mojo
The country’s property slump, compounded by strict anti‑COVID restrictions, is tearing at China’s economic engines. All this happens just before the ruling Communist Party’s once‑every‑five‑years Congress—a crucial moment when policy direction is set.
Bottom line
Unfinished apartments, like the latest binge‑worthy drama, have become the ultimate “billion‑dollar cliffhanger.” The next chapter? A massive gamble on whether developers will finish or if the market will rewrite the rulebook entirely.
‘Crashing from paradise’
Xu’s Roller‑Coaster Home Hunt
Back in early 2019, Xu signed the papers for a two‑bedroom, 70‑square‑metre flat. The developer, Jiadengbao Real Estate, had just kicked off construction a year earlier and was selling units at about 6,000 yuan (roughly S$1,200) per square metre. They promised fancy perks like floor heating and a shared swimming pool—the kind of amenities that make you feel like a millionaire.
From Fast‑Track to Frosty
- Initially, the 34‑tower complex seemed like a construction sprint—blocks popped up one after another.
- But everything hit a snag in June 2020 when a court slapped the parent company with accusations of illegal fundraising.
- The court seized a whopping 340 million yuan of their assets, including several flats in the Xiulan County Mansion.
Construction stalled mid‑2020. Xu wasn’t aware of the halt until months later, and she described the experience as “crashing from paradise.” Imagine dreaming of a seaside villa and suddenly finding yourself on the floor of a builder’s hallway—utterly unexpected.
Jiadengbao’s Silent Response
Despite a prompt from Reuters, Jiadengbao stayed mum. The silence only added to the drama.
The Ripple Effect
- Since the debt crisis blew up in 2021, thousands more homeowners are stuck in a similar loop.
- Cash‑tight developers either go bankrupt or walk away from projects, leaving buyers scrambling for solutions.
So, if you’re thinking of buying a flat from a new developer, remember Xu’s story: it’s not just about the price tag—there can be a whole plot twist beneath the surface.
Fencing and undergrowth
When a Hangover Turns into a Housing Crisis
Xiulan County Mansion turned into a surreal bump‑in‑the-road scene: the grand building block was quarantined behind a towering blue fence while the clubhouse—once the star of glossy brochures—mysteriously disappeared beneath a jungle of invasive plants. Concrete mixers, chunks of iron poles, and piles of debris stood like an accidental construction site on the parking lot.
The Family Drama
Meet Xu. She’s unemployed, but not unemployed… in love with the idea of a dream home for her only son. She bought the apartment with the hope that he could start a little family there. The twist? Her son and husband, now living up north in Hebei, blame her for their financial woes and have cut ties with her. They’re basically treating her like a broken vending machine—once handy, now gone.
Will the Government Deliver?
“We don’t know how long we will have to live here because the government hasn’t spoken up officially,” Xu says, eyes flicking toward the distant horizon of bureaucracy. She’s hoping the Guilin authorities will step in, maybe file a friendly court order, and do something about the mess.
The Baoding Handshake
In Baoding—the city where Xu hails from and where the parent company of Jiadengbao Real Estate is registered—housing officials recalled last November when the city government and the Communist Party committee set up a task force to tackle the problem. They vowed to turn the situation around.
Xu keeps it simple: “If the government really wants to protect people’s livelihoods and resume construction, we will go back home,” she says. The whole scene is a reminder that a rundown apartment block can become a full‑blown family drama.
Home Buyers | property china
