Step out of Exit E at the Daliang Zhonglou subway station, and a sudden flash of green glazed tiles interrupts the modern streetscape. This is Fuxing Villa, originally named Jianlu, a two-and-a-half-story brick-and-concrete structure built in the early 1930s. The roof, shaped in the traditional gable-and-hip style, wears green cylindrical tiles that catch the humid Lingnan sun. Below, faux-Roman columns guard the main entrance, anchoring a facade of rough, washed stone.

Inside, the building breathes the history of Shunde’s early modern textile industry. The original builder, Liao Xinshi, paced these winding solid wood staircases. He gathered local businessmen in these rooms, their voices echoing off the mottled etched glass windows as they debated loom mechanics and towel manufacturing for his Jingcheng Factory. The 8.7-meter-wide and 11.7-meter-deep layout offered a sanctuary for his family and a laboratory for industrial ambition.

The Second Sino-Japanese War fractured that ambition. Liao’s collaboration with the occupation government cost him the estate. The private home became a public vessel. In the post-war years, the rooms absorbed the hushed negotiations of democratic parties, earning the nicknames 'Democratic Building' and 'Red Building.' Later, cultural workers sat beneath the rain eaves of the large rectangular windows, meticulously recording the recipes for Lunjiao cakes and the rhythms of local lion dances.

Today, the scent of old timber mingles with the quiet hum of the Shunde Charity Federation. Renamed Fuxing Villa in 2005 and meticulously restored in 2023, the main building and its connected annex now host a permanent exhibition on local philanthropy. Visitors run their hands along the original carved wooden components, tracing the same grooves left by 1930s craftsmen. Light filters through the century-old etched glass, illuminating charity markets and community classes. The villa stands as a continuous dialogue between eras, holding the ambitions of a fallen industrialist, the ink-stained records of cultural historians, and the enduring generosity of a city.