The "Sea Palace" Is Weeping — The Ultimate Revelation of the "Sea Palace" Case (Part 13)
12. "The Sea Palace" Is Weeping
The aggressive government department issued three non-negotiable orders in a single day, leaving no room for maneuver. In particular, the "Notice on Ordering the Restoration of the Sea Area to Its Original State" required Maritime Elite Entertainment Co., Ltd. to tow the "Maritime Palace" out of Shenzhen waters or dismantle it on its own within three days of receiving the notice, and to restore the sea area to its original state. Given the scale and structural complexity of the "Maritime Palace," towing or dismantling it within "three days" was simply impossible. This shows that the government department, lacking experience in handling public opinion storms, could no longer concern itself with the legality and reasonableness of its administrative enforcement actions.
Thinking of how the maritime home he had built with his own hands would ultimately be doomed to destruction, Guo, with a heart-wrenching pain, was overwhelmed by grief and despair. Around March 4, 2011, Guo published "The Lament of the 'Maritime Palace'" on his blog and on forums, to express the despair and grievance in his heart.
My nickname is "Floating Island at Sea," but the media gave me a noble name, "Maritime Palace." Honestly, how would I dare to rank alongside an imperial palace? I'm just a slightly prettier village girl, that's all.
I'm a deformed creature, neither cat nor dog, maybe a mongrel of the two. Before I was born, my parents were worried about my household registration, so they ran around everywhere, going to the household registration department to apply for a birth permit. The department had never seen such a thing that was neither cat nor dog, and didn't know what kind of permit to issue, so they just told my mom to wait until after I was born.
When I reached three years old, my parents grew anxious and once again sought out the document-issuing department, requesting an ID card be issued. The reply was that the law had no provisions, and they didn't know what kind of certificate to issue.
When I was five, a typhoon nearly took my little life. To escape it, I moved on my own, which caught the attention of an older sister. Upon learning more, she discovered I was a wild child with no identity. Her well-meaning report immediately drew countless media attention. Some said I was a mongrel without identity and should be put to death; others said I was a rare creature and should be protected like a giant panda and put on display for the world to see. Some uncles and aunties stripped off my clothes and humiliated me in public, while many others stepped forward to protect me. I was terrified beyond words and felt utterly ashamed. Just then, law enforcement officers arrived, dispersed the crowd, and brought in many experts who carefully examined my appearance and concluded that I could still be a useful pet for society, suitable for public viewing. The officers sought instructions from my grandparents, who in turn sought instructions from my great-grandfather. They all agreed to first issue me a temporary ID card so that I could live for the purpose of being viewed by everyone. I was overjoyed—after seven or eight years of life, I finally had legal status. To thank the uncles and aunties who supported my survival, I am willing to donate all the ticket proceeds from people coming to see me to the marine environmental protection department.
On the day of the trial opening, quite a crowd showed up. The fishermen steering their boats ashore were all beaming with joy, and ticket prices multiplied several times over. But before the good days lasted long, a journalist uncle slipped in. Seeing that I was still alive, he was furious and demanded of the enforcement uncle: Why haven't I been executed yet? And he claimed that failing to execute me would not quell public outrage. The enforcement uncle was in a difficult position. Under immense pressure, he took back the ID card that had been issued to me and told me that, under pressure, I could choose to end my own life. I was utterly heartbroken. By this year, I am already eight years old, and I truly wish to remain in this world. Now I am to be executed again. Helplessly, I pour out my sorrow to the uncles and aunties, begging for a chance to live. If I am allowed to live, I will donate all the money I earn to marine environmental protection. If I am forced to leave Shenzhen, I can only drift to the high seas and become a lonely ghost. If everyone neither lets me leave nor permits me to donate, but merely wishes to witness my agonizing struggle through death, then I can only fulfill everyone's wish—the "Marine Palace" will surely become the "Undersea Dragon Palace." A hundred years from now, someone will dive into the sea to study my remains and will recall that Shenzhen once had such a beautiful village maiden. Dying amid everyone's admiration, I hope that by then, through the study of my remains, humanity can realize its beautiful wish to reclaim land from the sea.
I'm deeply attached to this world, but now I've become a wandering ghost, a lonely spirit.
Farewell, this world that made me happy and made me sad.
On the other hand, the media and public opinion are so extreme, and government departments are so lacking in accountability and even rationality, that Guo felt a nameless rage. He could not sit back and wait for his fate; he had to fight for a way to survive for the "masterpiece" he had painstakingly created, and more importantly, he had to demand justice for his personal dignity. He wanted to tell the public in an open and aboveboard manner—that he, Guo, was honorable and upright, and that in the construction of the "Sea Palace," there was nothing corrupt or dirty as rumors outside had suggested. His dream could withstand public scrutiny and the test of the people!
Guo Moumou immediately swung into action. On one hand, he instructed Hisea Elite Entertainment Co., Ltd. to apply to the Longgang District Oceanic Administration for a postponement of the enforcement; on the other hand, he began considering administrative litigation as a way to turn the tide. To this end, he mobilized the connections he had built up over the years, seeking out legal experts and prominent lawyers far and wide, hoping to find a legal shortcut that would yield immediate results and avert the crisis. In the end, of course, he came up empty-handed and was deeply disappointed.
On March 14, 2013, the Longgang District Oceanic Administration issued another "Notice on the Restoration of Unlawfully Occupied Sea Areas to Their Original State Within a Specified Time Limit" (Figure 56), stipulating that March 24 was the final deadline for compliance, stating, "If you fail to comply within the specified time, compulsory demolition will be carried out in accordance with the law, and all costs incurred shall be borne by your company."
On March 25, 2013, the Longgang District Oceanic Administration issued the "Notice on Compulsory Restoration of the Sea Area to Its Original State" (Figure 57), deciding to forcibly demolish the "Maritime Palace" on March 31.
On March 28, 2013, the Longgang District Oceanic Administration issued the "Notice on Self-Handling of Demolished Building Materials" (Figure 58).
These three "Notices," along with the three documents issued on March 1st, were later described by Attorney Zhiming as "six golden edicts"!
(To be continued)
