Buying a home is one of those major life events that comes after marriage and a car—unless, of course, your family has plenty of assets, in which case the calculation is different. I bought in October 2022, during a hot market, so prices were not low. I didn't have much cash, and my housing fund limit wasn't high, so I took a commercial mortgage. The rate was near the peak: 5.8%. I had no real choice—I didn't have enough money.
House hunting was a lot of work: viewing properties, comparing listings, prices, locations, and nearby amenities. In the end, limited funds were the main constraint. If money had been no object, I could have just picked one. The project was pre-sale, so only one sample unit existed; the rest were still at the foundation stage. I looked at many places and eventually got persuaded by the sales pitch from Greenland and paid an intent deposit.
Delivery trouble
Delivery turned out to be the hard part. The project felt like it was on the edge of being unfinished. There are examples all over the country, and no buyer wants that to happen to them—especially when buying a home is so difficult. Here is what happened between the work stoppage and final delivery. Some details are sensitive, so I'll keep it to words rather than screenshots.
With three months to go before handover, the site was half-idle. Only a few workers were moving around, and owners who went in saw almost no progress. We approached the developer. They kept saying the deadline had not arrived and that if delivery was late there would be compensation. They went on like that. Anyone could see that even without a three-month stoppage, the project would not be handed over on time. How could buyers not worry? We had paid a lot for homes we needed to renovate and move into.
With one month left, the site stopped completely. Evergrande had already defaulted, and owners panicked. People used whatever connections they had to ask local government officials for help. We also met the head of Greenland's Wuhan region and the person in charge of construction. It didn't help. The developer's answer was simple: no money. That was infuriating. Buyers had paid every cent before the problems, and now, halfway through, we were told there was no money. The subdistrict office and district government sent people to coordinate, but it still didn't work.
Eventually we went to a higher-level office to communicate. The group was forcibly dispersed. Some people were detained, and others were dragged onto buses. The scene was awkward and bleak. For ordinary people, getting a fair outcome is hard. The delivery problems in Wuhan at that time were serious; some people probably saw them on Douyin.
For regular people like us, it comes down to something bitter: if a problem cannot be solved, sometimes the people who raise it are the ones who get dealt with.
The developer said something that still disgusts me: 'It definitely won't be left unfinished—we just don't know when it will be delivered.'
Looking back, it was not easy. The reality was more serious than what I've written here. 'Exhausting' is not an exaggeration.
Then came the happier part: the housing fund application was approved.
The housing fund application
The commercial rate was adjusted twice and eventually came down to 4.3%. On a 700,000 yuan loan, the monthly payment at 5.8% was about 4,300 yuan. After the drop to 4.3%, it fell by roughly 500 yuan. That was already something. The housing fund rate was 3.1%, which would cut another 500 yuan or so. That made the conversion worth doing.
I still don't fully understand how the housing fund calculation works. I only know it depends on the monthly contribution coefficient and the account balance. My details: monthly contribution coefficient 1,600, balance 55,000, and I could borrow the full 700,000.
The commercial-to-housing-fund process may vary by bank.
After all the steps were completed, I waited. The estimate was two to three months; mine came through in two. If anyone has questions about this, we can compare notes.