Summary of the Key Points
This widely shared non-fiction article appears to be the author's memoir of her life in a rural area of Jiaodong. In essence, it tells the story of an ordinary woman who rose from a rural village in Rushan, Shandong, to the financial sector in Beijing through the college entrance examination. By using her own life experiences and those of two generations of her rural relatives, the article brings abstract economic concepts such as the "urban-rural gap," "intergenerational mobility," and the "digital divide" to life through tangible, everyday details. For instance, there are elderly people who don't know how to use escalators, plastic cups that have been saved for a lifetime as gifts, and the embarrassment of not being able to use even basic mobile apps when seeking medical treatment in large hospitals. It also reveals that despite entering the elite financial world, the cognitive differences between her and her colleagues are as significant as the distance between Rushan and Beijing. The article doesn't deliberately portray a pitiful situation but exposes a harsh reality that many prefer to ignore: China's rapid urbanization over the past few decades has brought some people into a prosperous modern life, while hundreds of millions of rural elderly people remain stuck in the old ways. The divide between these two worlds is far more profound than just a few thousand yuan in income difference.
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Simplified Explanation of Key Points
1. The digital economy fails to reach the most silent groups
Many people may find the scenes of Auntie and her cousin going to Qingdao for medical treatment exaggerated—how could they not even know how to make an appointment or hail a taxi? This isn't due to their stupidity. Auntie has lived for 80 years; for 70 of them, she simply went to the village doctor's house or the market to buy things without needing to scan codes, use apps, or enter verification codes. In the past decade, all our public services have become online, but the designers of these services (mostly young people aged 20-40 from cities) assume everyone uses smartphones and apps. They never considered the millions of rural elderly who have never had such access. Even the "large font mode" in apps treats the elderly as if they were simplified versions of younger people. Auntie and her peers lack basic knowledge like knowing how to switch between different apps, which is like throwing someone who only speaks Chinese onto a completely English-speaking street in the U.S. It's not that they can't benefit from the digital economy; they are simply excluded from it. For them, the doors to large hospitals, ride-hailing services, and even ordering food are all closed.
2. Thrift is a result of a "scarcity era"
An poignant detail in the article is that Auntie's cups are all from the蜜雪冰城 ice cream brand, and the washbasins and plastic stools are gifts from businesses. The author's mother, when visiting Beijing, noticed the high quality of packaging there and wanted to bring the thick plastic boxes back home. Many young people might find this wasteful, but it's not about consumption habits; it reflects a completely different "economic worldview" between the two generations. Auntie's generation lived through times of food scarcity, where they could only rarely afford white flour and had to be content with a little sugar. Their survival logic was to save and be frugal, fearing a lack of resources. This ingrained sense of insecurity doesn't disappear just because their pension has increased by 2,000 yuan per month. It's like after experiencing a three-year famine, one would still stockpile rice at home—it's an instinct, not a bad habit.
3. The college entrance examination offers a "ticket to a new world," but not for everyone
Those who have moved from small towns to big cities will relate deeply to this article. Back then, it was rare for someone from their town to get into Peking University; they were seen as outsiders. After entering university, they realized their classmates knew about things they never heard of and had more savings than their parents did. Even after joining a top financial firm, they found their colleagues' children could name popular Hermès colors and understood concepts like "land" in a way that meant tea gardens or homestays in Jiangsu and Zhejiang, while for them, it meant farmland. Despite years of hard work to adapt to the new world, their relatives in the countryside remain stuck in their old ways, unable to learn about things like picture books, social skills, or modern shopping experiences. The gap in experiences is much more painful than a simple income difference.
4. The overlooked aspect of shared prosperity
When we look at economic data, we focus on things like average rural income and healthcare coverage. Auntie is not the most unfortunate rural elder: her monthly pension is higher than her daughter's pre-retirement salary, and she has received proper medical treatment. Her decision to go on a hunger strike was due to chemotherapy damaging her digestive system. This highlights a misconception about prosperity—we often think having money means a good life, but many rural elderly people have never experienced things like escalators, online ordering, or a variety of snacks. Although China's economic output is second in the world, millions of them still live as they did 30 years ago, without the benefits of mobile internet or modern services. Bridging this gap in experiences is essential for our economic development.