A wave of divorces recently swept a small village in Nanjing, Jiangsu Province, with more than 160 couples rushing to the local marriage and divorce registration office within a short space of time, the Nanjing Morning Post reported.

Unlike the usual case when a couple split due to a disharmonious relationship, these couples, in ages ranging from the 20s to 80s, divorced for an ulterior motive – to get more relocation compensation.

Marriage and interests in the eyes of villagers

Located in Gaoxin District, Jiangbei Village was included in the provincial capital’s urban land requisition project long time ago. After large-scale demolition, the village was left in ruins, with only a few shops left scattered along the main streets.

Interviewed by the Nanjing Morning Post on the reason for their divorce, villagers were not at all shy. “This is indeed the case, and we do it because we want to get more relocation compensation out of it,” many said.

According to local land acquisition and relocation policy, compensation is measured in terms of household size, and each family group can receive an additional 70-square-meter of housing and 131,000 yuan (about US$19,070).

The compensation proved very tempting. So far, most of the 160-plus households in the village have completed their divorce formalities, according to a shop owner, who used the term “fake divorce” to describe the act.

Many divorced couples still live together. A man in his 80s said that he and his wife had a very good relationship, but they divorced for financial reasons. He said that their “fake divorce” was aimed at getting more compensation for the future relocation.

Asked what might happen if they couldn’t remarry, a villager explained that nobody cared about it for the time being. “Everybody is doing it and we’ll deal with other things later. Just wait and see,” the villager said, adding that the divorce is worthwhile if it could help them get more compensation.

Loopholes in land requisition and relocation policies

According to the house demolition policy, only consensual divorces occurring at least five years before could be used to determine household size for demolition and relocation compensation. So, why did so many couples still rush to register for divorce and therefore get benefits?

Things always sort themselves out. A local legal service agency sent staff workers to the village to help villagers handle the business. The workers were familiar with helping villagers seeking the “fake divorce” approach to avoid the limits on relocation cases.

This time, they explained to the villagers, there were no clauses in the demolition and relocation policy stipulating that a court-approved divorce couldn’t enjoy the compensation policy.

Villagers followed the staff’s advice to use this loophole and, as a result, divorce service fees subsequently surged from 5,000 yuan to 15,000 yuan.

Later, an official from local house demolition office said that the office did receive complaints that some villagers had taken the advantage of the policy loophole; however, he said, the office had yet to determine whether the demolition and relocation project will continue to be implemented without any change in the policy document.

Experts warn of severe consequences of ‘fake divorce’

A similar case happened in a village in the province’s Changzhou City seven years ago when 84 couples rushed to register their divorce within the space of a few days in order to get more relocation compensation. Similar cases also happened recently in the province’s Jiangxizhou, Jiangning and Pukou areas.

So, the “fake divorce” cases reveal one of the anomalies emerging amid rapid urbanization in China.

Legal experts argue “fake divorce” for such a purpose can bring about potential legal consequences, so it is a “dangerous game.” People who use loopholes existing in State policies for their personal benefits not only damage family harmony, but also undermine social stability.

Zhou Haiwang, vice-director of the Institute of Population and Development at the Shanghai Academy of Social Sciences, said that when so many people decide to divorce against their wish for family stability, policy makers should consider an adjustment, China Daily reported.

Legal experts suggest that the key to curb this phenomenon at source lies in the government departments, who must carefully check and carry out relevant policies and even set up a remedial mechanism.

The myriad services just a swipe of the finger away in China are no longer limited to food delivery, airport check-ins, or finding a bike on the street.

The latest novelty is an after-death service: organ donation.

Once beset by misconceptions and opaque proceedings, the Internet is unleashing explosive growth of people signing up for organ donation.

Huang Jiefu, director general of the China Organ Transplantation Development Foundation, told Xinhua on the sidelines of the annual “two sessions” that the number of online applicants in two days had been equal to those registering at Red Cross offices in two years.

In December, Huang’s foundation — backed by the National Health and Family Planning Commission — launched an organ donation function on Alipay, an online payment platform with 450 million users.

Alipay users can easily register themselves as potential organ donors, because to sign up as an Alipay user, one has to submit accurate personal data. It saves the foundation efforts to collect and verify potential donors’ information.

If one regrets, even at the deathbed, he can de-list himself from the pool by a few clicks, says Hong Junling, public relations manager of the foundation.

Hong said after three months of operations, the number of registered donors on Alipay has exceeded 100,000 and keeps rising.

“With Internet, I register in just one minute,” said an eager donor who chose to remain nameless. “Life is short, but by donating my organs, I can save the lives of others and part of me will live on in them, so why not?”

In China, about 300,000 patients need organ transplants each year.

Volunteers became the lone source of transplants after organ trading was outlawed in 2011 and the use of organs from judicial systems banned in 2015.

In a public opinion poll by the foundation, 83 percent of the respondents said they would like to donate their organs after death. Among the remaining 17 percent, more than half were reluctant to register because they did not know where to apply or complained that the registration was too complicated.

Xiaolong (pseudonym) was diagnosed with progressive muscular dystrophy when he was six years old. Last year, at 14, he decided to call off his treatment.

Xiaolong said he had wanted to donate his body, but did not know where to go. He only succeeded in getting touch with a Red Cross cornea bank after appealing on a local TV channel.

China has 731 million Internet users, more than half of the entire population. Internet is rapidly changing people’s life, including the way they participate in charity.

“The wide availability and convenience of the Internet made it much easier for the Chinese to express their wish to donate organs,” said Huang, a member of the 12th National Committee of the Chinese People’s Political Consultative Conference (CPPCC), a political advisory body.

Though registered donors do not translate into actual donors because the law gives the deceased’s family the final say, there will definitely be more donations in the long run, Huang said.

As political advisors, CPPCC members can put forward proposals, comments and suggestions on major political and social issues.

Huang has proposed that the health insurance covers organ transplant costs so that more low-income families can afford it.