There's a psychological principle called Murphy's Law: the more you hope something won't happen, the more likely it is to occur.
No sooner had Jing Shu thought, please let no one cause trouble, than several people showed up at the villa. Flashlights and umbrellas in hand, they circled the property. One of them even tried the coal shed door to peek inside.
They muttered quietly among themselves:
"Director Zhang, this place is really something. According to the files, they work in the Livestock Breeding Center and the Planting Industry R&D Management Department. Doesn't look like anyone important in the government."
"Exactly. And look at all those little buildings around here. We'll make them tear those down later, total illegal construction. Who knows what they've got stored in there? Could be rice, right?"
"You fool, if they had rice, they'd keep it inside the villa, not out here. Still, that tall, huge building really looks like a warehouse. I'd say this household is a fat sheep, stuffed with goods."
Director Zhang waved them closer and whispered a few words.
Jing An, who was outside cleaning red nematodes from the drainage pipes, heard the voices. He rushed over and shouted, "What are you sneaking around here for?"
In the dim rain, the three men swung their flashlights toward him. They hadn't expected anyone to be down there.
"Oh, hello comrade, are you the owner of this villa?"
"I am. And you are?"
The leader, a middle-aged man with glasses, stepped forward. His bald head had only two scraggly tufts of hair left, plastered down with grease so shiny even red nematodes wouldn't touch it. He pushed up his glasses and said,
"I'm the residential allocation director for this district. Last name Zhang."
"Oh, Director Zhang, nice to meet you." Jing An forced himself to be polite. These days, no one could afford to offend government people.
Jing Shu had already seen them on the surveillance camera and hurried out. She stood beside her father, frowning slightly.
Director Zhang straightened the few strands of hair on his head and put on a stern face.
"Comrade, do you realize you've built illegally? Wu City is underwater, millions are homeless, and you think you can just put up private buildings in public space? Do you know how many people this land could house? Dozens, at least!"
One of the young men added, "Not just illegal construction. Look at those four giant water tanks, hogging up space. And that extra fence around the villa, also taking up land. All of it has to be torn down."
Jing An felt the weight of their words. Before the floods, no one wanted houses out here. But now that the city was submerged, so many people had nowhere to go. They couldn't live in damp caves forever.
With constant downpours, the floodwaters weren't going to recede quickly. Even government buildings had been forced to relocate. This was clearly the second wave of resettlement, and wherever people settled now, they'd be stuck for the long haul. That made their community suddenly red-hot and highly valuable.
"Director Zhang, look, this warehouse isn't in the community's public space. Strictly speaking, it's outside the boundary, on the back hill. Sure, it's big, but that hillside is barren—nobody's going to live there. As for that coal shed, yes, it does take up about four square meters of shared land. You tell me what should be done.
As for the water tanks and the extra fence, they're right in front of my home. If it's communal, then I'm entitled to use it too. Under the old laws, as long as I don't disturb my neighbors, it's fine."
Half a year at the Livestock Breeding Center had given Jing An practice dealing with difficult people. Jing Shu was impressed; he'd grown a lot. Of course, much of his rhetoric came from the lessons she drilled into him daily.
The other young man jabbed a finger toward the towering garage.
"Land is scarce now. Doesn't matter if it's four square meters or four hundred—it's all housing space. People can live in it. You've got two choices: either donate these buildings so we can assign people to live here, or tear them down completely."
Jing An frowned, holding back his anger.
Director Zhang quickly pushed the young man's hand down. "Hey, young people shouldn't be so hot-headed. We'll all be neighbors soon. As leaders, we should show some kindness. No need to be so harsh."
He smoothed back his greasy hair and chuckled. "Your water tanks can stay. That shed you built, fine. The fence? It was for landscaping anyway, no use now, so you can keep it. Let's compromise. There's a new policy: privately built structures require a rental fee. One virtual coin per square meter each month. Whether in the community or on the back hill, same rule.
But since the policy isn't fully in place yet, let's keep it simple. You just pay 100 virtual coins per month. You don't talk, I don't talk, nobody else needs to know."
"Director, if the higher-ups find out, you could be punished for this."
"This is way too cheap for them, isn't it?"
One sang the white face, the other sang the red. The act was so convincing that even Jing An almost believed Director Zhang was cutting him a break.
Jing Shu had warned him yesterday about the illegal building issue, saying money would likely solve it. And sure enough, trouble had arrived today.
"Are you really with the government?" Jing An still had some doubt.
"What do you mean? You questioning us? Open your eyes and look closely. Here's my official title in the big data system." One young man pulled out his phone to show him.
"See? This is our director. And here's the QR code for collecting your illegal-building rental fee. Scan it. Right now, only supermarkets can process virtual coin payments. Individuals can't."
Jing An scanned it. The process really was the same as in the supermarket. On-screen, his balance popped up: 960 virtual coins.
Ever since his marriage, Jing An had never held such a fortune. If the transfer system were active, he wouldn't have been able to save this much.
The eyes of Director Zhang and his three companions lit up instantly. This man was a fat sheep indeed.
They couldn't figure out how a small-time livestock worker had saved so much. Did he never spend a coin? Even in their positions, although the government covered meals, they still had big families to support. Daily expenses for rice, vegetables, even paper or household supplies, all cost virtual coins.
Their guess was right though. Jing Shu's family had few ways to spend coins. Virtual coins only bought food and basic necessities.
Utilities like electricity were rationed, only available for a few hours starting at 7 p.m. Natural gas, oil, and coal were strategic resources, no longer for civilian use.
So until the virtual coin system opened up for personal transfers and business, those coins didn't mean much to her family.