# Xu Jiayin's Eldest Son Gets 41 Million Yuan Monthly While Lying Flat, Second Son Takes the Fall for Father, Daughter Drives Sports Cars

The "Evergrande family" family trust has been frozen by overseas courts. Looking closely at the task assignments of the three siblings, it is precisely the chess game Xu Jiayin set for himself: one beneficiary, one scapegoat, one invisible person.

In 2023, Evergrande founder Xu Jiayin was taken away by police on suspicion of economic crimes. On that very same day in Vancouver, Canada, his eldest son Xu Zhijian received approximately 41 million yuan in monthly dividends through an offshore trust.

Second son Xu Tenghe is under investigation at a detention facility in Shenzhen, related to the Evergrande Wealth collapse. Daughter Xu Xiyun remains unscathed, continuing to frequent luxury villas in Shanghai's Lujiazui. Absurd reality separated by the Pacific Ocean—three family members have taken three completely different paths.

Previously, we only saw wealthy family feuds and wealth preservation tactics in TV dramas. Now the script has entered reality, with "separate paths to survival" playing out against the backdrop of Evergrande's collapse. This modern wealthy family version reveals the silent contest between family affection, law, and interest under the games of capital.

In 2019, Evergrande's performance report was extremely impressive, with annual revenue exceeding 470 billion and net profit of 33.5 billion. Xu Jiayin retained his title as real estate's richest person, appearing glorious in public.

During fair weather, offshore trusts were quietly established with principal aimed at grandchildren, merely disbursing interest. Multiple cross-border structures with layers of legal obscuring layers. By Evergrande's peak year, the foundation had already rotted.

The most beautiful reports are written for outsiders, but family assets require planning a hundred years ahead. Those sipping soup always hope for an umbrella in the backyard, but when floods come, the whole city gets soaked.

Look at Xu Jiayin's eldest son Xu Zhijian. In Dunbar, Vancouver, neighbors assumed he was a low-key IT immigrant. RAV4 to the supermarket for soy sauce, no designer brands, no social media presence, no sports cars—a portrait of complete "invisible person" style.

Yet he receives 41 million yuan monthly, using the premium hidden benefits in an offshore trust. And this invisibility service is something only a big ship like Evergrande can "turn around easily."

Earning millions monthly yet carrying a shopping basket buying discount milk—it reminds one of joking commentary about how "the richer become thriftier, ordinary people work harder." The real confidence comes from that legal wall in the trust agreement. Only that wall also faces the day of being torn down.

For second son Xu Tenghe, a Harvard economics honors graduate and typical early success story among Shenzhen's second generation. He once managed 200 billion in real estate assets, and from 2020 managed core operations under Evergrande Wealth. Financial innovation, wealth management, market confidence—he was riding high.

Yet when Evergrande Wealth collapsed, a 34 billion redemption crisis crashed down, leaving 100,000 investors unscathed. As a core manager of the company, he was eventually taken away.

Seeming to have a successor, in reality the rich second generation couldn't escape being cannon fodder. On the battlefield of capital warfare, everyone wants to be the winner. When trouble strikes, being a shield is merely a matter of when you get pushed forward. Xu Tenghe and his mother's "mother sues son" farce is heartbreaking in its exposure of how thin family bonds are in wealthy households.

Seemingly most ordinary Xu family daughter Xu Xiyun is actually the most mysterious one. Her photos can't be found online, yet there are occasional mysterious colleague exposés that she drives limited-edition McLarens, lives in Tower 46 of Tomson Riviera, yet only works as the most low-key financial analyst.

Not involved in decisions, no signature, no core business involvement. Effectively, she's meant to exist but remain invisible, leaving one line of maneuvering freedom.

Some say life's greatest fortress isn't houses or cars, but a position from which you can safely weather the storm. Even social media is like invisible mode is on—this kind of living as a punchline would be hard to imagine existed in top-tier families unless experienced firsthand. Yet it's actually a skill.

Visible lines, hidden lines, buffer zones—the three siblings' different identities behind them form Evergrande's insurance formation. Offshore trusts, real estate, grassroots finance—Xu Jiayin's abacus beads are precisely calculated: those who can withdraw money don't cause trouble, those who can take the bullet shoulder the risk, those who should disappear must completely decouple.

The three siblings' fates differ, but above their heads is an umbrella made by Xu Jiayin himself. If ordinary families emphasize children inheriting the father's business, wealthy families play more like children diversifying the father's risks—there are roles for weathering storms, scripts for bearing landmines, only family reunion becomes a luxury.

The dispersed risk-avoidance strategy of Xu's three siblings is already an open secret in Chinese and global family business circles. Enterprises have risks; wealth firewalls are best built early and thick. But theoretical discussion is one thing; whether you can survive when a collapse actually happens is quite another.

The real chasm between ordinary families and wealthy families isn't the numbers, but whether there's someone with the standing to shield you when disaster strikes.

Those trusts, assets, and cross-border shell companies become like paper scraps when giant waves hit. What's most worth contemplating is that home should be a destination, but when it becomes a risk-avoidance fortress, family becomes fellow travelers each seeking survival.

For elite families with resources and connections, this is called risk management. For most people, it's selling the pot and house. Social justice and restoration shouldn't just focus on catching bad actors on the run, but truly give injured ordinary people hope.

To this day, the eldest son's ATM has been frozen, the second son's fate hangs in legal limbo, how much longer will the daughter remain the "safe person" driving luxury cars?

All three paths face unknown outcomes. Meanwhile, ordinary families who bought unfinished properties, parents who invested their blood and sweat, the tens of millions who were harvested like wheat—have nowhere to appeal their grievances.