As part of Asian Heritage Month, here is a retelling of a bygone housing era and sensational housing law case in Vancouver, British Columbia.
This article is written through the author’s own cultural, legal, and creative lens – with a Xianxia twist. For the uninitiated, Xianxia is a high‑fantasy genre rooted in Ancient Chinese philosophies and mythology.
No one really knows the true origins of the new immigration wave to Canada. Perhaps it was all part of a continuous, circular Pacific Asia web as long studied by contemporary Chinese Canadian diaspora scholars. This wave brought in a tsunami of investment capital – and along with it, an era of fierce bidding wars for property in the Greater Vancouver area, indulgent appetites for consumption, and supercars roaring through once sleepy neighbourhoods.
What or who was this wave, you ask? Well, it was no other than the self-proclaimed Emperors and Empresses of mainland Chinese ancestry, of course – along with their decreed Princesses and Princelings, otherwise known as the fù’èrdài (富二代 – commonly spelled fuerdai, meaning “abundant, wealthy or rich second generation” in Mandarin).
It was an unfamiliar dog-eat-dog world around them, but the fuerdai were no dogs. They were roaming close-knit prides of hungry lions who hunted together for the most exquisite Taiwanese bubble tea (BBT) cafes, global culinary delights, and hangout spots.
When not cramming for exams as seemingly upright students and performing filial duties as part of dynastic brand management, they spent their days living a double life – speculating over who liked whom, hitting up karaoke lounges, gushing over the hottest Asian pop idols, browsing high-end stores, filling their closets with premium apparel and enjoying the little things in life*. With their prideful swagger that ruffled feathers, the universe of the fuerdai was in its own bubble as they floated along their journey in the west.
*The “little things in life” are defined as (but not limited to): chewy BBT pearls, cute animals, sunsets and taking pictures of such little things.
Meanwhile, within this era, a legal drama of a more ghoulish nature was unfolding with a stately mansion in the exclusive Shaughnessy neighbourhood in Vancouver. A woman with multiple aliases and properties, Ms. Feng Yun Shao (also known as “Ms. Shao” or “the buyer”), was looking to buy a home in the neighbourhood. Top private schools. A lush botanical garden. A private club with rows and rows of tennis courts. Shaughnessy is a buyer’s destination for great expectations — what is there not to love?
In August 2009, she heard about a property listing for the mansion. A house number containing only double “3s” and double “8s” – how doubly enticing. It was at first listed at $7,680,000, but the seller reduced the price to $6,980,000. The buyer viewed it three times. When she asked why the family was moving, the seller’s agent told her that the Chinese seller was moving because her granddaughter, who lived with her, was changing schools.
Everything seemed fine, so the buyer put an offer down. They eventually reached a contract of sale and purchase with a price of $6,138,000. However, she later learned through a friend that “a death had occurred” at the front gate. What to do now? Well, time to Google it, of course. The buyer then learned through an online search that an alleged triad member, who had lived in the home, had been shot dead near the home’s front entrance two years prior.
Āiyā (哎呀 – oh my god)! As you can imagine, alarms are going off by now. For one, she would fear for her life (everyone in Asia knows you don’t mess with triads). She would lose more than just qián (钱– money) with this purchase – she would lose miànzi (面子 – literally translated as “face” but means reputation). She’d also end up with a home with bad fēngshuǐ (风水 – commonly spelled feng shui, a traditional practice from ancient China which involves arranging spaces for harmonious energy) with all this shāqì (杀气 – literally translated as “killing energy” but means negative energy)!
This was a true horror situation, the type you only see in the golden age of Hong Kong cinema! Remediate hidden defects like structural rot, toxic white asbestos and leaky poly b pipes? Maybe possible with a lot of time and money. But remediate a dead spirit – who knows how many Taoist and Buddhist cleansing rituals that would take?!
The buyer must have been in a state of terror upon this discovery. The seller’s agent did not mention the death. So, she refused to complete the purchase. The seller then sued the buyer for damages and to keep her $300,000 deposit. The buyer then counter-sued the seller for not disclosing the death (the “defect”) and fraudulent misrepresentation, plus return of her deposit.
After a series of court proceedings, the case ended up before the British Columbia Court of Appeal in Wang v. Shao, 2019 BCCA 130 (CanLII) [Wang v. Shao]. In Wang v. Shao, the court affirmed the longstanding legal rule of caveat emptor – “buyer beware.” This means it is the buyer’s responsibility to ask specific questions if they have subjective likes and dislikes that might affect their decision. The seller’s agents did not need to disclose the death unless the buyer asked specifically about the circumstances of the move or whether any violent deaths had occurred.
The buyer argued, without evidence, that there was a shared cultural understanding that the seller should disclose the death to the buyer. The court rejected this argument. The court held that it must apply the law the same way for everyone. It cannot make decisions based on cultural stereotypes. It must use an objective standard that applies to all buyers and sellers.
The court held that the seller did not have to disclose the death because she had no reason to think that it would matter to the buyer. The law uses an objective test for what counts as “material.” Since the buyer did not provide expert evidence showing a specific cultural sensitivity the seller knew about, there was no misrepresentation. Wang v. Shao is now part of the legal precedent cited in property and misrepresentation cases across Canada, including British Columbia, Alberta, Saskatchewan, Manitoba and Ontario.
Author commentary
In my work at CPLEA, I often see a public myth that law operates in a vacuum away from people. But it doesn’t – law is clarified by proximity and participation in our Canadian legal system. And often, it’s disproportionately clarified by the people who have the means, resources and awareness of their legal rights and responsibilities to do that – as seen in Wang v. Shao. However, there are limitations too. Common law and legal narratives don’t always capture people’s subjective cultural realities and perceptions, or even cultural nuances.
Does the reimagining of the buyer’s reaction sound over-the-top to you? Well, it’s not. What you don’t see in the case law, legal commentary, or narrative is that any association with death in a property is a major cultural taboo, and cultural superstitions shape property-buying decisions. Having a place with harmonious energy or good feng shui is an important part of Chinese culture and for many within diaspora communities.
Depending on whether you speak Cantonese or Mandarin, there are varying levels of extreme tetraphobia – avoidance of the number “4” which phonetically sounds like “death” in both Cantonese (“séi” – 死) and Mandarin (“sǐ” – 死). Houses with numbers ending with the “death-ridden” 4 are sold at discounts in Vancouver neighbourhoods with a higher percentage of Chinese residents. In fact, there are high-rise buildings throughout Vancouver where floors with the digit “4” are missing. The urban development trend was so concerning that the city eventually stopped developers from removing floors containing “4” (which was an effort to cater to superstitious Chinese buyers).
As a cultural observation, the particular numbers in the list price ($7,680,000), reduced price ($6,980,000), and agreed upon purchase price ($6,138,000) suggest there was perhaps a mutual belief in superstition. The numbers “3”, “6”, “8”, and “9” are all auspicious (lucky) numbers in Chinese numerology. Moreover, the lucky number “8” (“bā” – 八, which is phonetically similar to prosperity “fā” – 发) is highly sought after in property transactions and impacts home value.
As a factual observation, Shaughnessy, where this case takes place, is especially significant. Shaughnessy, like many neighbourhoods in Vancouver, historically excluded and restricted Chinese people and other visible minorities through discriminatory real estate covenants. It was not until 1978 with changes in B.C. law that they became void and of no effect. But the covenants persisted (and to this day persist) on land titles documents until property owners request to have them removed. Here’s an uncomfortable truth to burst everyone’s bubble: historically, racism has always been part of Vancouver and B.C. real estate, with the legal institutions and laws mirroring that ideology.
Beyond the case, this era was more than just a tsunami of investment capital. For Chinese Canadians, it was not long ago that one felt unwelcome in the place they thought was home. With a Canadian homeland spiritually heavy with the history of policies to assimilate and exclude Chinese people, including the Chinese Exclusion Act, the “new” diaspora wave was a tsunami for many young Chinese Canadians who lived through it as an awakening of another way of being.
The social contract used to be – follow the rules, assimilate and maybe you will belong someday or one day. But now, for some, this diaspora wave stirred a much more unsettling and provocative thought. Have enough capital, and that social contract becomes obsolete – with assimilation being optional.
This diaspora wave also illuminated the diversity and fluidity of Chinese cultural identity and expression – as well as a greater understanding of how it’s shaped by privilege, family histories, traditions and values, and lived experiences within Canada and abroad. We all have individual lived experiences and perceptions of those experiences as we converge in the same reality, but what story do we tell ourselves moving forward?
This diaspora wave, like the waves before them, was often ridiculed and pored over like ancient texts in the media and online. Yet, this wave, like the waves before them, helped transform the Vancouver skyline into a world-class city. A city with soaring glass towers reminiscent of those in Hong Kong and Shanghai, and expansive urban infrastructure spanning the city. However, along with that, the complicated history of policies and laws that reinforced and furthered the frenzy of real estate buying interests.
This diaspora wave rippled throughout the Canadian economy, society, policy-making and legal system. But it also left the next wave of politicians, lawmakers, bureaucrats, and developers all scrambling with the aftereffects tied to their seemingly sudden arrival and wake of their departure – as the tides turned against them with the introduction of a speculation tax, foreign buyers’ tax, empty homes tax and other changes to the law.
However, not all is lost in spirit beyond this era – with the rumblings of a people-centred ethos taking shape at Vancouver city hall and the flourishing of vibrant Asian cultural festivals, heritage museums, and bustling night markets, all welcome to all. And surrounding them throughout the city, the lingering scent of fallen spring blossoms to bloom once again.
Epilogue
So what happened to all those fuerdai? Abiding by the wishes of their tiger parents (and for the sake of familial bragging rights), a good number of them probably packed their suitcases full of shoes, shoes and more shoes… and were sent to reigning temples of higher enlightenment as finishing rites of passage (otherwise known as more school). They were to cultivate their aimless minds and tame their gluttonous souls. Only to scatter like dragon balls across the globe again, morphing into forms that no one really knows.
To learn more about the history of Asian Canadians, refer to the following:
- Dr. Henry Yu, History Professor at the University of British Columbia (UBC), “The white elephant in the room: anti-Asian racism in Canada”
- Carolyn Ali, “What was the Chinese Exclusion Act in Canada? 3 things you might not know”, University of British Columbia Beyond UBC.
- Matthew McRae, “The Chinese head tax and the Chinese Exclusion Act”, Canadian Museum for Human Rights.
- The Chinese Canadian Museum Society of BC
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DISCLAIMER The information in this article was correct at time of publishing. The law may have changed since then. The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of LawNow or the Centre for Public Legal Education Alberta.
About Judy Feng
