Empty Pockets Under Neon Lights

Beijing, this massive crucible that consumes dreams while forging others, often stages real stories stranger than fiction, seemingly out of the blue. Lin Wei is one of the seemingly glamorous characters in this play.

Anyone who knows Lin Wei would label her "successful." Thirty-five years old, middle management at a well-known internet company, earning 50,000 RMB a month – even after tax, it's an income far beyond the reach of many her age. She frequents high-end office buildings in the China World Trade Center area, wears well-tailored professional attire, and occasionally posts photos of exquisite afternoon tea on her Moments, set against the backdrop of the CBD's dense skyscrapers. Witty in conversation and well-versed in industry trends, she's the typical "Beijing drifter" elite who has seemingly established a firm foothold in the city.

However, only Lin Wei herself knows that her pockets, illuminated by the dazzling neon lights, are often emptier than a street beggar's broken bowl.

Today is the end of the month again. Lin Wei stares at the number displayed on her mobile banking app – a five-figure sum, but pitifully small before the decimal point. It hasn't substantially grown beyond the "100,000 RMB" savings she's accumulated over her thirteen years of striving in this city. This 100,000 RMB feels like a stubborn coordinate, marking her years of stagnation, a stark and absurd contrast to her ever-increasing salary.

"Sister Wei, want to grab dinner at that new Japanese place after work? I heard their sashimi is super fresh," her young colleague Xiao Ya leaned in, eyes sparkling with anticipation for the food and trust in Lin Wei's spending power.

Lin Wei's heart tightened, but her face wore a professional smile. "No, thanks. I have something on tonight. You guys go ahead."

Xiao Ya pouted slightly, a bit disappointed, but didn't dwell on it. After all, Lin Wei always "had something on." She rarely joined colleagues for meals unless it was a company-expensed team-building event. She never bought luxury goods; that expensive-looking coat she wore was snagged during a sale season three years ago. She even lived outside the Fifth Ring Road, an hour and a half subway ride from the office, sharing an apartment with others.

All this seemed completely at odds with her "50,000 RMB a month" aura. Privately, colleagues speculated. Some wondered if she had heavy family burdens, perhaps being a "fu di mo" (someone excessively supporting her younger brother); others guessed she had failed investments and was deep in debt; even more outrageously, some suspected she had a bad habit. Lin Wei had heard whispers of these rumors but never defended herself, silently continuing her precise, frugal, pendulum-like existence.

She did indeed have a younger brother, but not the kind depicted in "fu di mo" stories. Her money flowed to a place far more distant, and far more "money-burning."

Late at night, Lin Wei returned to her tiny ten-square-meter bedroom. Shedding her daytime armor, she opened her laptop. A video call request immediately popped up. She answered. On the screen was the smiling face of a young man, the background a practice room at a famous European music conservatory.

"Jie!" The young man's voice was full of excitement. "Let me tell you, I got the highest score on the quarterly assessment! The professor also said he could recommend me for that international cello competition next year!"

A rare, genuine smile spread across Lin Wei's face, seeming to melt away the fatigue in the corners of her eyes. "That's wonderful, Xiao Hai! I knew you could do it."

This young man, Lin Hai, was Lin Wei's younger brother. From a young age, he displayed astonishing musical talent, especially for the cello, bordering on obsession. Their family was ordinary; their parents were working-class in a small town, completely unable to support his exorbitant tuition fees and instrument costs. It was Lin Wei who, right after graduating from university, resolutely gave up her own chance at postgraduate studies and plunged headfirst into the glitz and grind of Beijing. She had only one goal: earn money to send her brother to study at the world's best music conservatory.

That expensive cello was bought with her entire savings from her first year of work. The nearly one million RMB annual tuition and living expenses were earned through countless overtime nights and weekends. Every penny saved from the dinners and trips she declined because she "had something on" turned into numbers in her brother's bank account.

Fifty thousand RMB a month? It sounds like a lot. But faced with the astronomical cost of studying abroad, it still left her barely scraping by. She didn't dare get sick or incur any unexpected expenses. That 100,000 RMB in savings was her last line of defense, more like an emergency fund set aside for her brother. She operated like a precision machine, calculating every expense, compressing her own desires to the bare minimum. To her, Beijing's prosperity was merely a dazzling backdrop outside her window, a stepping stone for her brother's path to his dream stage.

"Jie, when can you come see me perform?" Lin Hai asked expectantly.

A pang of sadness hit Lin Wei's heart, but she quickly smiled. "Soon. When you win the grand prize in the competition, Jie will definitely be there in person to cheer you on." What she didn't say was that a round-trip ticket and expenses in Europe were still a "huge sum" for her, requiring careful consideration.

After hanging up, Lin Wei opened a folder containing videos of Lin Hai playing. Melodious cello music flowed from the cheap computer speakers, filling the small room. Lin Wei closed her eyes, a smile playing on her lips. She remembered having a vague musical dream herself as a child, but reality had long since run that dream aground. Now, her brother's music was the echo of her own dream.

She took a small, slightly worn photo frame from her bedside table. The photo showed her teenage self and her young brother nestled beside their parents, all smiling brightly. Back then, she had no idea her life's trajectory would turn out like this.

Beijing's night remained bustling. Neon lights flickered tirelessly, reflecting countless people like Lin Wei – carrying secrets and heavy burdens, yet still forging ahead with heads held high. Her pockets might be empty, but her heart was filled with something weighty, called "hope" and "achievement." For Lin Wei, the moment her brother played the first note under the spotlight might be the ultimate validation for all the effort and sacrifice of her decade-plus "Beijing drifter" life.

The next morning, Lin Wei squeezed onto the rush hour subway as usual. The carriage was packed, faces showing a mix of fatigue, numbness, or aspiration. Watching the city scenery flash by the window, Lin Wei clutched her commuter bag tightly. Inside, there was no designer wallet, only a simple sandwich and the old photo frame holding her brother's picture. Her steps remained firm. Because she knew she carried not just the pressures of life, but also the bright future of a young life. This was her most extravagant "wealth" in this city.