Suddenly, a colleague whispered, "I don't think the food stalls in the corner are going to cut it anymore…"
"I'll take one," another said.
"Make that two for me!"
They just couldn't help themselves, the aroma was simply too divine.
Some government employees paused on their way to lunch, curiosity piqued by the unfamiliar sight and seeing people buying. But then the price caught their eye, and skepticism crept in.
"Thirty-five yuan for a street stall meal?" someone muttered under their breath. "That's restaurant pricing."
"Right? I can get a decent meal at Xinyue Canteen for 28," another nodded. "Who would pay that much for something cooked by... well, who even knows who?"
Though they had stable salaries and generous benefits, the culture of frugality ran deep among the bureaucrats. Spending 35 yuan wasn't a matter of affordability—it was about perception. Why pay that much to eat standing on the street?
But then few more took the risk.
One of the Employee from nearby office building couldn't resist the alluring scent drifting from the cart and took one and walked into his office pantry. When he opened his lunch set in the office pantry, the room fell silent for a beat.
The aroma that wafted out was unlike anything they'd ever experienced from a street vendor. Rich soy glaze over tender meat, warm steamed rice with a hint of jasmine, vegetables still vibrant and crisp, and an herby soup that carried the scent of slow-boiled chicken and shiitake mushrooms. Every element was harmoniously balanced.
A colleague across the table leaned in, brows raised.
"Holy... Bro, where did you buy this?"
"From that cart outside. Across the main gate."
"That street cart?"
Another colleague peeked over his lunchbox filled with store-bought dumplings. He blinked, then quietly put the lid back on.
"I suddenly don't want mine anymore."
Within minutes, more lunch boxes from the food cart appeared in the office, carried in by curious staff members who had decided to follow the scent and see what the fuss was about. Same scene occurred in many different office buildings including City Planning bureau, the moment each set was opened, the entire Planning Bureau was flooded with the irresistible fragrance.
Conversations slowed. Chopsticks paused midair. A ripple of envy passed through cubicles.
Someone poked their head out from an adjacent office, holding a Tupperware box.
"What's that smell? It's divine. Chen, did you order something?"
"Nope," Chen replied, not even looking up as he took a bite of the braised ribs, his face full of bliss. "It's from the street stall. Across the gate."
"Wait... you bought food from a street cart? You?"
Chen just nodded, already scooping another mouthful of rice.
By now, a crowd had started forming outside. The queue stretched around the corner.
Inside the City Planning bureau, the effect was almost miraculous.
In a place known for tight schedules and stiff necks, the mood lightened. The stiffness in the air dissolved into casual chatter. Laughter could be heard echoing between cubicles. Some even took their lunch to the windows just to eat in the sun—a rare sight for the usually desk-bound employees.
"The pork melts in your mouth!" someone exclaimed, licking their fingers unabashedly.
"God, this soup is a pure comfort!"
"Forget the restaurant—I'm eating here every day if they keep this up."
"Who are these people? Street vendors shouldn't be allowed to cook this well!"
But the final surprise was yet to come.
After the hearty meal, each box concluded with a sealed cup of chilled latte. Lightly sweetened, with a subtle nutty undertone and a creamy smoothness—it was neither bitter nor artificial. One sip, and even the pickiest palate was stunned into silence.
"What... is this?" someone whispered in awe.
"I don't know," said another. "I've never tasted anything like it."
"It's like... coffee, but not coffee? It's refreshing but creamy. Did they put ice cream in this?"
A woman from Human Resources clutched her cup with reverence.
"I swear, one sip and my soul reloaded. I haven't felt this awake since that double shift last quarter."
Even supervisors, who initially dismissed the commotion as lunchtime gossip, found themselves curious. When Assistant Director Qian walked into the pantry and saw five staff members beaming over their identical lunches, he raised an eyebrow.
"Where did you all get those?" he asked.
"Sir, the food stall across the street. You have to try it. It's worth every yuan."
He hesitated. But moments later, Assistant Director Qian was spotted in the queue, tie tucked into his shirt, sleeves rolled up, checking his phone as he waited patiently like the rest.
By 1:45 PM, almost all the lunch boxes had sold out. The cart had only 2 sets remain.
The lunchtime crowd had finally dispersed.
He Qiang, who had eaten quickly and then offered to help the Li family manage the stream of customers, now stood by the stall, stretching his arms and smiling in relief. "Whew... Finally, a breather. I forgot what silence felt like."
Li Jianping was counting the remaining meal boxes. His cheeks flushed with joy as he turned to his niece.
"Ziqing, only two sets left. Everything else is sold out!"
Li Ziqing responded with a tired smile, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand.
"That's great. Let's pack up and head back before it gets too hot."
As they began to clean and close up the stall, He Qiang suddenly paused mid-step, as though a thought had just struck him. He turned to Li Jianfang, eyes narrowing slightly.
"By the way sister Feng... the courtyard you live in, you were buying on installments—has it been fully purchased yet?"
Before shifting into eastern district, he knew Li Jianfang was planning to purchase her courtyard she was renting in installments.
Li Jianfang blinked, surprised by the question.
"Yes. I paid the last installment back in March. The title deed is in my name now. Why?"
He Qiang let out a soft breath of relief and nodded, as if confirming something to himself. "Good... That's good."
Li Jianping, who had been wiping down a folding table, looked up curiously. "Why do you ask, Qiang? Something going on?"
He Qiang glanced around. The street was quiet now. Most of the employees have already went back to their office. Satisfied that no one was within earshot, he stepped closer and lowered his voice.
"Listen," he said, looking between the three of them. "This stays between us."
Li Jianping and Jianfang and Li Ziqing nodded, their expressions serious now.
"You already know I work in the City Planning Bureau," He Qiang began, "but what you might not know is that I'm in a senior role in the Planning Department. Yesterday, something major came across my desk."
He paused for effect, letting the suspense settle.
"A billion-yuan mega project—backed by provincial and municipal funding—was finalized and submitted to our bureau for further planning and approvals. Originally, the target was the Western District for redevelopment, but after a full review, the top brass shifted their focus."
He leaned in further.
"This morning, it was officially decided—the Northern District is being selected for full-scale redevelopment."
Li Jianfang's eyes widened. "Northern District?"
He Qiang nodded gravely. "Yes. Because of its location close to the Central District, and more importantly—because of the lake."
"That old lake?" Li Jianping frowned. "The one no one ever cared about?"
"It's being rebranded," He Qiang said, a faint smirk on his lips. "What used to be overlooked is now prime land. The lake has been deemed perfect for anchoring a new Mega City hub. The plan is to build a high-speed bullet train station, luxury shopping malls, a high-end private hospital, international schools, and top-tier residential complexes and so much."
He paused again before adding meaningfully, "Your ally is practically half a kilometre away from the lake. And it's in the most prime location even within the approved land for mega city project."
A stunned silence followed.
"That means..." Li Jianping whispered, almost afraid to finish the thought.
"Yes," He Qiang confirmed. "It's in the first wave of redevelopment. Demolition notices will be circulated soon—maybe within weeks. But don't worry. Since the land is in a prime location, you'll be offered extremely generous compensation—likely four times the current market rate."
He turned to Li Jianfang. "And since the title deed is already in your name, the property's compensation will go directly to you. You'll also be allocated a brand-new house after redevelopment is complete, in the same area, but situated in what will become one of the most coveted zones in Wuhan in years to come."
Li Ziqing immediately cut him, a deep frown forming between her brows.
"Four times the market value?" she repeated, looking at He Qiang. "Uncle Qiang, that doesn't sound very practical. It's too generous."
She didn't mean to question his authority, but the figure was hard to believe. In her previous life, she had lived through a demolition—though not in the Northern District. After her mother's death, when she had escaped from Zhao Shide's clutches, she had drifted south and lived there for five bitter years.
She remembered clearly: in that southern city, when the demolition notices arrived, the compensation given was at the current market rate—nothing more. Then, after redevelopment the settlement house was given to them, in the equal location. But No one ever received four times the value.
She snapped back when she heard He Qiang's soft chuckle.
"I get it, Ziqing," he said, smiling as if he had expected her skepticism. "Under normal circumstances, you're absolutely right. Standard procedure is to compensate based on current market value, then provide a resettlement house of equal area. That's how it usually goes."
He looked around once more before continuing, lowering his voice again.
"But this time, it's not normal circumstances. Initially, the plan was only to develop 4,000 acres of land near the lake in Northern District—that's the core of the Mega City project. Everything from bullet train station to malls and luxury housing is being centered there."
Ziqing nodded slightly, listening intently.
He Qiang continued, "But the problem is, Northern District has always been seen as a stain on Wuhan's map—dilapidated, chaotic, neglected. So now, the provincial officials have decided: since we're tearing into the heart, why not clean up the entire area?"
"Total redevelopment?" Li Jianping murmured in surprise.
"Yes," He Qiang confirmed. "But—and this is important—only the first block, those 4,000 acres near the lake, has been fully greenlit so far. Investors are locked in, the project plan has been finalized, and construction is scheduled to start before year's end, and for rest of the area they will find the investors and only than the demolition start. That means they need to clear the area of 4000 acres near the lake fast. There's no time for appeals or long negotiations."
He gave them a meaningful look.
"And in such urgent cases, the compensation jumps. Four times the market value is common. If the location is key—say, closer to the lakeside or main transport routes—it can even go up to five or six times. It's the only way to avoid delays from resistance. Speed matters more than cost at this stage."
Li Ziqing's frown deepened—but now in thought, not doubt.
She understood what he meant.
Speedy demolition meant better compensation. She had never seen that happen in her previous life—because she was never part of the "core block." Back then, she had no home, no registered property, no one to fight for her.
But now... this life was different.
She looked at her mother, Li Jianfang, who was still digesting the information. Then at her uncle, whose brows were drawn together as if working through the math in his head.
If what He Qiang said was true—then not only were they safe, they were sitting on a treasure chest.
But Li Ziqing didn't understand one thing.
Where did this redevelopment suddenly come from?
In her previous life, she had lived in the Northern District with her mother until 2011. The neighborhood had been rundown, yes, but demolition? She remembered none. Even after they went to that Backwater Village farther north, there was no word of any large-scale redevelopment project.
It wasn't until much later, when she was already in the south, working odd jobs and fending for herself after her mother's passing, that she saw a segment on the evening news. A flashy headline: "Wuhan Northern District Begins Comprehensive Redevelopment—First Phase Completed." The screen had shown aerial views of cranes, bulldozers, and newly paved roads around the lake—roads that she had once taken as a child with her mother.
She had watched that broadcast standing in the dim hallway of her small cramped rental apartment, the smell of mold and instant noodles around her. A faint bitterness had crept up her throat.
That night, she couldn't help but think—if only she still had that courtyard…
But by then, her grandmother had already taken it. Snatched it away from Li Jianfang under the guise of "family property," only to sell it later at a dirt-cheap price for her second son's so-called "business." The house her mother worked years to purchase on installments… gone.
Ziqing's hands curled into fists at her sides as the memory resurfaced like a wound pressed open.
She turned to look at her mother—now cheerfully talking to her brother, her expression relaxed in a way Ziqing hadn't seen in a long time. They had sold out the lunch sets. Everyone was happy. Hopeful.
But this redevelopment—this wasn't supposed to happen yet.
At least not in 2006.
So what changed?
Was it the economy? The local politics? Had the investments come earlier this time?
What she didn't know was that, she herself was the reason of this butterfly effect. Her culinary skills last night in banquet has done the magic.
Just as she was lost in her thoughts, her mother's phone started ringing and as she answered her expressions suddenly changed to one of a concern.