Imagine pouring nearly eight years and 200,000 yuan into creating something uniquely yours—only to watch it reduced to rubble in a single morning. That’s exactly what happened to Chen Tianming, a 43-year-old villager in Xingyi, Guizhou province, whose unconventional pyramid-shaped home became an off-beat tourist attraction before authorities razed it to the ground.
Starting with a humble stone bungalow, Chen transformed his family’s dwelling into a towering warren of rickety staircases, balconies, and add-ons that drew comparisons to the fantastical creations of animator Hayao Miyazaki. For years, his structure defied demolition notices and building restrictions, climbing higher with each passing season—the fifth floor completed in 2019, the sixth in 2022, the seventh in 2023. It was the kind of audacious, chaotic creativity that shouldn’t work but somehow did.
The story, though, hinges on a broader conflict. Authorities razed most of Chen’s village in 2018 to make way for a lucrative tourist resort in a region famous for rice paddies and otherworldly mountain landscapes. Chen refused to leave. When the tourism project eventually faltered, he channeled his defiance into building upward, one floor at a time. But that stubborn independence made him a moving target. In August 2024, officials labeled his home an illegal construction and ordered him to demolish everything except the original bungalow within five days.
On May 18, Chen received his final notice: evacuate by 9 am on Wednesday or face legal repercussions. Around a dozen law enforcement and public security officials arrived early that morning, escorted him and his parents away, and confiscated his phone. By evening, dozens more had dismantled almost everything he’d built, leaving only piles of materials and the first floor standing.
What makes Chen’s response remarkable isn’t resignation—it’s resolve. I don’t feel regret, because regret is useless, he told AFP. I also don’t blame myself for failing to protect it—it’s just that the force driving its destruction was simply too powerful. He’s now seeking legal help to have the forced demolition designated illegal, hoping to restore what was taken. It’s a David-versus-Goliath fight unlikely to end in his favor, but it reflects something deeper: the tension between individual vision and state authority, between creative resilience and bureaucratic power.
Chen’s mad, beautiful building is gone. But his willingness to keep fighting suggests that some acts of defiance can’t be demolished—not even by official decree.
About the Author
Andrew Johnson
Andrew Johnson is a contributor to LocalBeat, covering local news and community stories.
