“Xiao Chen, why are there chickens on your family’s ancestral grave?” A neighbor’s remark just before the Lunar New Year made my heart sink. Hoping to get more compensation from the demolition, Widow Wang had actually built a chicken coop on top of my great-grandfather’s grave. When I went to confront her, she was standing with her hands on her hips, directing her son, Li Daqiang, as he expanded the coop. Chicken droppings mixed with dirt were smeared all over the gravestone.
“Auntie Wang, this is my family’s ancestral grave,” I said, my voice trembling.
Wang Xiulan shot me a sideways glance. “Your family’s? Got proof? Once the demolition payout comes through, I’ll be a multimillionaire. Who do you think you are, some little village official?” Behind her was the asphalt road I’d spent my savings and countless favors to get built. I’d personally overseen the installation of every solar streetlight along the road. The kindergarten not far away had been designed from my own blueprints.
“Chen, don’t act like we owe you anything. We’re getting rich because we’re lucky! Who cares about your little favors?” Widow Wang’s son swung his shovel and smashed a solar streetlight by the roadside.
I didn’t argue. I simply turned and called my older sister, the real estate company’s CEO.
