Deemed a “Dystopian Apartment,” a building in China has recently gone viral on TikTok. Incredibly, it has the ability to host up to 30,000 residents.
The video was posted by @fatheristheone using a drone and caught people’s attention for more than just the impressive interior and unique design.
People were also astonished after seeing footage that truly captivates the enormity of the building.
Many people have read at least one novel focusing on a Dystopian society. Or at least understand that it describes a society that lives in fear or has been dehumanized.
Most works have been fiction, although some might argue they’re a possible warning about the future.
Either way, China currently has an apartment building that can house up to 30,000 residents at one time. Furthermore, containing everything residents could possibly need.
Features of the Dystopian Apartment
The “dystopian” apartment, called the Regent International, is located in Qianjiang Century City, more specifically, in Hangzhou’s central business district.
The building was actually designed by Alicia Loo, chief designer of a 7-star hotel called the Singapore Sands Hotel, and was inaugurated in 2013.
Impressively, the building is 675 feet tall and is currently home to around 20,000 residents. It is an S-shape and has 36, or 39, floors depending upon which side of the building you are.
Unsurprisingly, it’s one of the most densely populated areas in the world, thanks to the numerous residents coexisting under one giant roof.
Within the more than 30 floors of the Regent International, there are a number of amenities. Some include restaurants, swimming pools, and nail salons.
The building also contains its own grocery stores and internet cafes. Essentially, anything one might find “in town” can be found indoors the “dystopian apartment”.
As a result, many residents may never step foot outside again. Posing the question, will they also never get any fresh air or feel the sunlight on their skin? First, the residents aren’t forced to stay indoors, nor are they forced to live in the “dystopian apartment.”
In contrast, most residents are young professionals and influencers or college students. Both of them greatly benefit from the cost-effectiveness and convenience of living in a place such as an S-shaped building.
Advantageous Living
Living there seems to be incredibly convenient for residents as they have everything they could possibly need under one roof.
Convenience isn’t the only advantage. Its affordability is another great benefit to living at Regent International.
Units vary in size and cost but range from 1,500 RMB, which is equivalent to around $200.00 per month, to 4,000 RMB, which is just under $600.00 per month.
While some are apprehensive, calling it a “dystopian apartment,” others have praised the innovation behind the building. It’s even been called “the most sustainable living building on earth.”
Another interesting advantage comes to light in the midst of a housing crisis that is seemingly sweeping the U.S. The “dystopian apartment” could serve as a model for how the U.S. can possibly create more living spaces for people without taking up copious amounts of land.
Interestingly, one state has already developed something like the hotel turned apartment city. Whittier, a city in Alaska, has a 14-floor building in which all 272 residents live. It, like the building in China, has everything one would find “in town.” This includes a church, school, post office, and police station.
Possible Downsides
Like everything in life, this, too, has pros and cons. After all, the building has been referred to as “dystopian apartment” for a reason.
As previously mentioned, many people are wondering how so many people can live in one place. U.S. residents tend to prefer privacy. Space from their neighbors. Even a yard to hang out in or for their dogs to play.
A major drawback to a housing solution like this is that people will have very little space of their own, with little opportunity to be outdoors or get fresh air. Luckily, the problem of getting fresh air can be remedied by taking a stroll or renting one of the larger units in the Regent International, as some come with balconies, providing some relief from living in there.
My Neighbors Left a Note That Shattered My Heart — My Granddaughter Discovered It and Gave Them a Learning Experience
The music I played on my piano was my last link to my late husband. But cruel neighbors shattered that joy with a hurtful message on my wall. When my granddaughter found out, she made things right, leaving those entitled neighbors scratching their heads.
“Oh, Jerry, did you love it today, darling?” I asked softly, the last notes of “Clair de Lune” filling my cozy living room as my fingers lifted from the ivory piano keys. My eyes fixed on the framed photo of my late husband, Jerry. His kind eyes seemed to twinkle back at me, just as they had for over fifty years of our marriage…
Willie, my tabby cat, stretched lazily near my feet, purring contentedly. I reached down to scratch behind his ears, feeling the familiar ache in my chest as I carefully lifted Jerry’s photo.
“I miss you so much, darling. It’s been five years, but sometimes… sometimes it feels like yesterday.”
Pressing a gentle kiss to the cool glass, I whispered, “Time for dinner, my love. I’ll play your favorite before bed, okay? ‘Moon River,’ just like always.”
As I set the frame back down, I could almost hear Jerry’s warm chuckle. “You spoil me, Bessie,” he’d say, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
I shuffled towards the kitchen, pausing to look back at the piano, my constant companion these past 72 years.
“What would I do without you?” I murmured, running my hand along its polished surface.
That night, as I lay in bed, I whispered into the darkness, “Goodnight, Jerry. I’ll see you in my dreams.”
The next morning, I was lost in Chopin’s “Nocturne in E-flat major” when a sharp rap on my window startled me. My fingers stumbled, the music cutting off abruptly.
A red-faced man glared at me through the glass. He was my new neighbor.
“Hey, lady!” he shouted, his voice muffled. “Cut out that racket! You’re keeping the whole neighborhood awake with your pathetic plinking!”
I stared at him, shocked. “I… I’m so sorry,” I stammered, even as a small voice in my head protested. It was barely 11 a.m., and none of my other neighbors had ever complained before.
The man stomped away, leaving me trembling. I closed the lid of the piano, my sanctuary suddenly feeling tainted.
The next day, I closed all the windows before sitting down to play. The music felt muffled and constrained, but I hoped it would keep the peace.
I was barely ten minutes into Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” when my doorbell rang insistently. With a heavy heart, I answered it.
A woman with pinched features glared at me. “Listen here, old lady,” she spat. “The grave’s calling, and you’re still banging on that piano? Cut the noise, or I’ll report you to the HOA!”
It was only then that I understood she was my new neighbor’s wife.
I felt like I’d been slapped. “I… I closed all the windows,” I said weakly.
“Well, it’s not enough!” she snapped, turning on her heel. “Quit making noise with your stupid piano!”
I slumped against the door frame, tears welling in my eyes. “Oh, Jerry,” I whispered. “What do I do?”
I could almost hear his voice, gentle but firm. “You play, Bessie. You play your heart out. Don’t stop… for anyone.”
But as I sat at the piano, my fingers hovering over the keys, I couldn’t bring myself to press down.
Days passed, and I tried everything. I taped cardboard over the windows, played only in short bursts, even considered moving the piano to the basement where it might not be heard.
But nothing seemed to satisfy my new neighbors, the Grinches, as I’d started calling them in my head.
The thought of being separated from my cherished instrument, even by a flight of stairs, made my heart ache. This piano wasn’t just an object; it was an extension of my soul, a living connection to Jerry and our life together.
Forgetting about those bothersome neighbors for a moment, I lost myself in the music as I played the piano that night.
The next morning, I stepped outside to tend to my small herb garden. The sight that greeted me stopped me cold.
The cruel words “SHUT UP!” were spray-painted across the wall in angry red letters.
I sank to my knees and wept. “Jerry, I can’t do this anymore.”
That day, for the first time in decades, I didn’t touch my piano.
As night fell, I sat in Jerry’s armchair, clutching his photo. “I’m so sorry, my love. I just don’t have the strength to fight anymore.”
The shrill ring of the telephone startled me from my thoughts. I fumbled for the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Mom? It’s me,” my son Jacob’s warm voice filled the line. “How are you doing?”
I swallowed hard, fighting back tears. “Oh, I’m fine, sweetie. Just a quiet day at home.”
There was a pause. “Mom, you don’t sound fine. Is everything alright?”
I sighed, debating whether to burden him with my troubles. “It’s nothing, really. Just… some issues with the new neighbors.”
“Issues? What kind of issues?”
I found myself spilling everything… the complaints, the threats, the vandalism.
“I don’t know what to do anymore, honey. I feel so… lost.”
“Oh, Mom, why didn’t you tell me sooner? We could have helped.”
“I didn’t want to worry you. You have your own life, your own problems.”
“Mom, you’re never a burden. Never. Your music has brought joy to so many people over the years. Remember all those Christmas parties? The school recitals you played for? You’re not a nuisance… you’re a treasure.”
“Listen, I’m going to call Melissa. She’s closer. Maybe she can come check on you. And we’ll figure this out together, okay?” Jacob finished.
As I hung up the phone, I felt a small flicker of hope. Maybe I wasn’t alone in this after all.
Days crawled by. My piano sat untouched, gathering dust. I felt like a part of me was withering away.
One evening, a loud knock startled me from my melancholy. I opened the door to find my granddaughter Melissa standing there, her face glowing with a warm smile.
“Surprise, Nana!” she exclaimed, enveloping me in a tight hug.
As she pulled back, her eyes widened in horror. “Nana, who did this to your wall?”
I burst into tears, the whole story spilling out between sobs. Melissa’s expression darkened with each word.
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