The Scary Reality of Contemporary 'Working Class': A Magical Life with a Monthly Salary of 5000

The life progress bar of contemporary youth seems to have been pressed on slow motion. While others drive luxury cars and live in villas at thirty, the low-level workers dare not even upgrade to the top model of an electric bike at that age—after all, the factory battery can last another two years, and the money for a new battery is enough to buy half a month's instant noodles.

Old Zhang, who tightens screws on the assembly line, gets along with nuts and wrenches every day, and the screws he tightens could circle the Earth three times, yet he can't escape the circle of his mortgage. Little Li, who delivers food, is even more extreme; his phone stores shortcuts for food delivery in every neighborhood in the city, with navigation more accurate than satellites, yet his savings balance can't even cover the down payment for a bathroom.

The most outrageous is Little Mei, who does SPA treatments. Every day, she gives customers a sense of happiness worth experiencing, but after work, she’s as exhausted as a dehydrated salted fish. When she goes out to the matchmaking market, the other party frowns as soon as they hear her job: 'This job doesn't sound very respectable, does it?' This makes her so angry that she wants to give them a professional massage to make them understand what a 'serious working class' really means.

Master Wang, who applies putty, can draw smooth arcs on the wall that could make Da Vinci cry, yet the walls of his rented room are cracked like a spider web. The barber Tony is even more magical; the hairstyles he designs for customers are trendier than the last, while he has been sporting a buzz cut for years—after all, maintaining a hairstyle costs money, and washing his hair one more time is just burning cash.

Old Zhou, who does welding, is the most hardcore; the sparks from his welding gun are more dazzling than fireworks, yet his bank card balance is flatter than the steel plates he welds. Sister Zhao, who sweeps the streets, is even more remarkable; she sweeps the city until it's spotless, yet her own life is as messy as an unclassified trash bin.

Some say: 'I’ve tightened screws until I have muscle memory, but my salary still hasn’t increased by a decimal point.' Someone else replies: 'The number of food delivery orders is more than my hair, but my savings are fewer than the hairs I’ve lost.' The most heartbreaking part is that everyone chips in to buy a lottery ticket, fantasizing about getting rich overnight, only to find they didn’t even win five yuan.

In the end, these people who struggle at the bottom of life support the operation of the city with their own hands, yet cannot afford a house or a car. But that’s okay; after all, being poor is stable, and being poor is justified—until the day they win the lottery and can at least upgrade to an electric bike with a seat cover!