• Popular Industries: 10,000 Yuan May Just Be the "Starting Price" In industries like internet, finance, and IT, a monthly salary of 10,000 yuan has long been considered the "basic line." I have a friend who works as a new media editor. He graduated in 2021 and joined a company in Hangzhou. His probationary salary was 8,000 yuan, but after becoming a full-time employee, with performance bonuses, he earned 12,000 yuan in his first month. Even previously inconspicuous "operations" positions in first-tier cities now generally pay over 10,000 yuan with 1-2 years of experience.

These industries are characterized by "skill-based earning." As long as you can code, plan, and manage projects, young people can earn a decent income without needing decades of experience.

• Traditional Industries: Earning 10,000 Yuan May Require "Growing Up" In contrast, in fields like construction, manufacturing, and county-level education, earning 10,000 yuan requires "slow and meticulous work." My cousin back home is a primary school teacher. After 15 years of teaching experience, even after being promoted to senior teacher, her monthly salary, including the homeroom teacher allowance and year-end bonus, is just over 8,000 yuan. My colleague, a project manager on a construction site, has worked for 10 years, rising from a surveyor to a management position, and his monthly salary barely reaches 15,000 yuan. The number of nights he's spent and the number of construction sites he's visited during that time is countless.

It's not that people in these industries don't work hard, but the nature of these industries dictates that "income is linked to seniority." To earn a high salary, you have to work your way up step by step.

[Advertisement: Brother, play this little game. It's very exciting! Qingyun Jue: Subduing Demons] Open the game. 2. Different cities, the "purchasing power" of 10,000 yuan differs by a factor of two.

Last year's "China Enterprise Recruitment Salary Report" published by a recruitment website contained some very realistic data:

• First-tier cities: 10,000 yuan = starting point for "living paycheck to paycheck" The average monthly salary in Beijing is 12,000 yuan, and in Shanghai it's 11,800 yuan. While 10,000 yuan may not seem like much, when you actually live on it, you realize how quickly it "spends." My former colleague rented a small, old 30-square-meter apartment in Shanghai for 4,500 yuan a month. Food cost 2,000 yuan, and subway and shared bikes cost 800 yuan. After deducting social security and housing fund contributions, 10,000 yuan left him with only a little over 2,000 yuan. A small purchase of clothes or a meal with friends left him with virtually no savings.

Here, 10,000 yuan only guarantees "getting by," not "living comfortably."

• New First-Tier Cities: 10,000 Yuan = "A Little Surplus" In cities like Chengdu and Wuhan, the average monthly salary is around 8,000 yuan, so 10,000 yuan is enough for a comfortable life. My cousin works as an accountant in Chengdu, earning 10,000 yuan a month. She rents a two-bedroom apartment for only 2,500 yuan, spends 1,500 yuan on food, and saves 3,000 yuan after buying things for her parents. She occasionally takes her family to nearby ancient towns on weekends, living a very comfortable life.

Here, 10,000 yuan can cover living expenses and even allow for some "small enjoyments."

• Third- and Fourth-Tier Cities: 10,000 Yuan = "Pillar of the Family" My hometown is a third-tier city, where the average monthly salary is only 4,000-5,000 yuan. 10,000 yuan can almost cover two months' expenses for an average family. My cousin works as an interior designer there, earning 12,000 yuan a month. This allows him to pay his mortgage (2,800 yuan per month), his child's tuition (5,000 yuan per semester), and still save 4,000 yuan each month. Even if there's a minor health issue at home, he won't panic.

Here, 10,000 yuan is enough to support a family's financial stability.

II. The "weight" of a 10,000 yuan monthly salary is never just a number, but in life itself.

Some say, "A 10,000 yuan monthly salary is just a number," but for ordinary people, the weight of this number changes with age and responsibility.

1. For Young People: 10,000 Yuan is "The Confidence to Establish Oneself"

For recent graduates, having 10,000 yuan is the first step towards settling down in the city. My cousin graduated last year and went to Shenzhen to work as a UI designer. His first month's salary was 11,000 yuan. He spent 4,000 yuan renting a single room close to the company, and used the rest to buy a computer and household items, so he no longer needed to ask his family for living expenses. He said, "Although I can't save money, at least I don't have to rely on my parents, which gives me peace of mind."

For young people, 10,000 yuan isn't a "high salary," it's the "dignity of not having to ask for money."

2. For middle-aged people: 10,000 yuan is the "backbone of the family."

After 30, with a family, 10,000 yuan becomes the "pillar of support." My neighbor, Sister Zhang, works in administration and earns 10,000 yuan a month. She pays 3,500 yuan for her mortgage, 2,000 yuan for her child's extracurricular classes, and 2,000 yuan for her parents' blood pressure medication and health supplements. The remaining 2,500 yuan is for the family's living expenses. She said, "Every time I get paid, I allocate this money first before I dare to spend the rest; I don't dare to buy things recklessly."

For middle-aged people, 10,000 yuan isn't just "income," it's "a sense of security for the family." 3. In an emergency: 10,000 is a "lifeline"

Last year, my father suddenly developed appendicitis and underwent surgery costing over 8,000 yuan. Luckily, my salary that month was 12,000 yuan. After deducting medical expenses, the remaining money was enough to buy my father some nutritional supplements. My mother said, "Luckily, you could come up with this money, otherwise we would have had to frantically borrow from relatives."

When you urgently need money, the value of 10,000 yuan far exceeds its monetary value; it's a "rope" that can help you out of a predicament.

[Advertisement: Tencent Yuanbao + DeepSeek, providing fast and accurate answers to all kinds of questions! Tencent Yuanbao x DeepSeek View] III. Instead of worrying about whether "10,000 is high or low," focus on making your money "valuable."

Many people worry about whether a monthly salary of 10,000 yuan is enough. The truly important thing isn't the number itself, but whether you can control that 10,000 yuan and make it work for you.

1. Change your career path and make your 10,000 yuan "more valuable"

My former colleague, Xiao Li, used to work in e-commerce operations in Shanghai, earning 15,000 yuan a month, but only 3,000 yuan was left after expenses. Last year, he resigned and returned to Wuhan. Using his experience in Shanghai, he found a job as an operations manager at a local e-commerce company, earning 12,000 yuan a month. His rent was only 2,000 yuan, allowing him to save 6,000 yuan a month and still have time to eat with his parents.

Sometimes it's not that your salary is low, it's that you haven't found the right place to maximize its value.

2. Distinguish between "needs" and "wants" to make your 10,000 yuan "more sustainable"

My friend, Xiao Chen, earns 10,000 yuan a month but manages to save 4,000 yuan each month. His secret is "only buying what you need, not what you want." He says, "I don't buy useless skincare products just because influencers recommend them, nor do I follow trends and buy designer shoes. I mostly cook for myself, and I save the money I save so I can travel at the end of the year."

Spending money wisely can make 10,000 yuan a very comfortable life.

3. Make 10,000 Yuan "More" by Taking a Side Hustle

My neighbor, Brother Wang, works as a technician at a company, earning 13,000 yuan a month. After get off work, he does website maintenance for small businesses, earning an extra 5,000 yuan each month. He says, "Life is stressful these days; more income means more security, and it'll make things easier for my child when they go to university."

Don't limit your income to a fixed salary; spare time can create value.

There's always this online debate about whether a monthly salary of 10,000 yuan is high, but it's unnecessary. Some people with 10,000 yuan can squeeze into a rented apartment in a first-tier city, while others can live in a large house in a small county town; some use 10,000 yuan to buy a camera to stargaze, while others use it to buy baby formula for their children.

The true value of 10,000 yuan is never determined by the number itself, but by how you use it and how you live your life. Like the old saying goes, "Only the wearer knows if the shoe fits," only you truly know whether your life is comfortable or not.

How much is your monthly salary now? Is that enough to live on in your city? Let's chat in the comments section; maybe we can offer some new insights. If you find this helpful, don't forget to share it with friends who are struggling with salary concerns, so everyone can have less anxiety and more peace of mind.

• The answer to "What will I do when I'm old?" is never "marriage."

People often ask her, "If you don't get married, who will take care of you when you're old?" But the reality is, does marriage guarantee a comfortable old age? How many couples argue and fight after marriage, and how many still have to take care of themselves in their old age? My best friend is now working hard to save money, exercising regularly to stay healthy, and spending weekends with friends. She says, "If I can't move around when I'm old, I'll go to a good nursing home. Having money and good health is more reliable than anything else."

Compared to "finding someone to rely on," she believes more in "relying on yourself is the most reassuring." This is true; after all, security is never given by others, but earned by yourself.

• The meaning of life has never a "standard answer."

Some say, "A woman's life is only complete if she gets married and has children," but shouldn't the definition of completeness be given by herself? Just as some people prefer sweet rice dumplings and others prefer savory ones, there's no right or wrong, just different choices. My best friend chooses to "live for herself," while I choose to "live for my family." As long as it's a personal choice, there's no "good" or "bad," only "suitable" or "unsuitable."

As the writer Somerset Maugham said, "There are no standard answers to life; everyone has their own way of living." We shouldn't judge other people's lives by "standard criteria," nor should we give up the life we ​​want because of others' opinions.

• The most painful thing was her parents' nagging.

Her parents would call every few days, either saying, "The neighbor's daughter got married, and her husband is a good catch," or sighing, "We're getting old, who will help you take care of your children?" Every time she hung up, she would sit on the sofa for a while to recover. "I'm doing just fine, but their comments make me feel like I've done something wrong." I understand this feeling perfectly—elders' "it's for your own good" can sometimes be more hurtful than outsiders' opinions, because you know they mean it, but you can't convince them that "my happiness isn't just about marriage."

• The inescapable "concern" is more suffocating than criticism. When she went back to her hometown for the New Year, relatives surrounded her, asking, "Why aren't you married yet?" "Are your standards too high?" Their scrutinizing eyes were like scanners, as if "not married at 36" was something very strange. She could only laugh it off, but then turned to me and said, "Sometimes I really want to ask them, does marriage guarantee happiness?" Society seems to draw a line for women: they must get married when they reach a certain age, and have children after marriage, otherwise they're considered "abnormal." But who says a woman's value can only be proven by her roles as "wife" and "mother"?

My best friend has a small apartment in the suburbs of Chengdu. It's not big, but the balcony is full of succulents, the living room has her yoga mat, and the bookshelves are full of her favorite books. She says, "I don't have to rush to cook after get off work. I can practice yoga whenever I want, or watch TV series whenever I want." These words are like a thorn in my side, pricking my daily routine of being constantly surrounded by the stove and my child.

• Her time is entirely her own.

After get off work, she goes to a yoga studio. On weekends, she meets friends for tea and to see exhibitions. Last month, she even went to a newly opened independent bookstore, taking countless photos of sunlight and book pages. And me? Every morning I take my child to school, rush to the market at noon, pick them up in the afternoon, help them with homework, and only get a break when my husband comes home in the evening. I used to love painting and traveling, but now when I open my photo album, it's full of pictures of my child; I can't even find a single solo photo of myself.

Her time is complete; mine is fragmented. Even "having a proper meal" has become a luxury.

• Her life is free of "musts," only "what she likes."

She doesn't have to give up spicy food to "cater to her family's tastes," doesn't have to compromise herself by living in a cramped old apartment for "her children's schooling," and doesn't have to force herself to attend dinners she doesn't want to attend because of "elders' expectations." She says, "If I want to buy an expensive piece of clothing, I don't need to consult anyone; if I want to take a short trip, I can pack my bags and go on the weekend."

Many of us, however, have long since replaced "what I like" with "what they need." It's not that this is bad, but sometimes I think back to my past self, who also longed for such a life of "living for myself."

Apricot blossoms, spring rain, Jiangnan. Six square characters, perhaps with a trace of soil upon them. Whether in Chixian, China, or elsewhere, they shift and evolve, as long as Cangjie’s inspiration remains undiminished and the beauty of Chinese endures, the form and essence will possess a centripetal force. Consider a character as a world. In the beginning, there were words, giving sustenance to the hearts of the Han people. Writing the character "rain" out of the ether, bit by bit, like a torrential downpour, the sound of droplets, and all the fascination of clouds and rain, it feels as if one is within it. The visual impact is satisfying; one can open an "Etymology" or "Cihai" and each element—metal, wood, water, fire, earth—becomes a world. As soon as one enters the "Rain" section, the ancient celestial heavens change ceaselessly before eyes: the beautiful frost, snow, and clouds, awe-inspiring thunder and lightning, reflecting naught but the temperaments of the divine, and the entire book offers laymen an inexhaustible fascination at the weather station.

Listen with your ears, how can you penetrate the cold rain? Soon, how can there be cold rain? Smell it, the cold rain, taste it, the cold rain. The rain falls upon umbrellas, raincoats, rooftops, and aerials of millions in the city, and upon the ships in the breakwater of Keelung Port; this autumn rain descends during the Qingming Festival. Rain is feminine, the richest medium to sense its sex. The rain is ethereal and hallucinatory; sniff carefully, fresh and invigorating, with a hint of mint. When heavy, after the grass and trees, there is a faint earthy smell, perhaps that of earthworms, a startling insect. Perhaps it is the life inherent to the earth, or layers of ancient Chinese memory, squirming foolishly; perhaps it is the subconscious or the dreamlike tension of plants, the fishy scent.