Hsu Chi Penthouse 1995 Apr 2026

According to a 1997 exposé in a now-defunct tabloid, the magnate’s wife, a reclusive former actress named Hsu Chi (no relation to the famous actress of the same name), refused to live in the space. Her complaint? Acoustic.

Completed in 1995, the penthouse wasn’t famous for its square footage or its celebrity roster. It became famous for what happened after the champagne bottles were recycled. To understand the mystery, we first have to separate the blueprint from the ghost story. Commissioned by a Taiwanese media magnate (whose name has been redacted in most surviving records), the Hsu Chi Penthouse sat atop the now-demolished "Hua Shin Tower" in the Xinyi District of Taipei. The architect was a young, hot-headed French minimalist named Laurent Delacroix , who vanished from public life in 1998.

Here’s a blog post written in the style of an art, architecture, or culture blog, exploring the significance of the Hsu Chi Penthouse, 1995 . The Ghost in the Glass Tower: Revisiting the Hsu Chi Penthouse (1995) Hsu chi penthouse 1995

Architects later theorized that Delacroix had miscalculated the harmonic resonance of the reflection pool combined with the double-layer glass facade. But local legend took a darker turn. Neighbors in the Hua Shin Tower claimed that between March 12–18, 1995 (the week the penthouse was first occupied), the building’s elevators would open to the 38th floor on their own. Security footage, which has since been lost, allegedly showed the silhouette of a woman in a cheongsam standing at the edge of the indoor pool—even though the penthouse was empty. The Hsu Chi family moved out in late 1996, just 18 months after moving in. The penthouse sat vacant for five years. In 2001, the Hua Shin Tower was condemned—not due to structural failure, but because of a bizarre dispute over fung shui and the building's "energy memory."

Because of the

In a rare interview, she reportedly said: "The building doesn’t amplify sound. It erases it. You can clap your hands, and it’s like the walls eat the noise. But at 3:00 AM, you hear footsteps walking on water."

Delacroix’s design was a masterpiece of "negative luxury." Forget gold leaf. The penthouse was a 12,000-square-foot monument to gray concrete, poured resin floors, and 30-foot windows that offered a 270-degree view of the Taipei skyline. The centerpiece was a "reflection pool" that ran the entire length of the main hall—just two inches deep, but black as ink. According to a 1997 exposé in a now-defunct

The penthouse was gutted. The reflection pool was smashed with jackhammers. Laurent Delacroix’s blueprints were supposedly burned in a ritual by a Taoist priest hired by the building’s new owners.