A year studying in the UK or the US cost 630,000 RMB, and a mainland blogger shared her experience online…一年英國或美國留學花了63萬，有內地博主在網上分享了她的經歷…

The money for the UK came from her parents’ 20 years of hard-earned savings. She lived frugally in London, sometimes waiting outside supermarkets by 8 p.m. to grab discounted bread and vegetables with yellow sticker labels. Her school wasn’t close to where she lived, and a 40-minute walk was the norm—just to save on the expensive subway fare. Sometimes, her feet would blister, and she’d lie awake at night staring at the ceiling, wondering: Should I just go back? But on the other end of the phone, her mother’s voice was as firm as iron, gritting her teeth and urging her to persevere. So she swallowed her hesitation and pressed on.

After returning to China, she found a job in another city with a monthly salary of 12,000 RMB. It sounds decent, but when she did the math, the 630,000 RMB study abroad expense felt like a mountain weighing on her chest. At this rate, it would take decades to save that amount. She never complained, sending 5,000 RMB home every month like repaying a debt that could never be fully settled. Her parents always said over the phone, “Don’t send us money, keep it for yourself,” but she knew that behind their tough words, this act had long become a form of comfort for them.

Was studying abroad worth it? She never said it explicitly, but her eyes held a struggle. Occasionally, late at night, scrolling through her phone and seeing old photos of London streets, her fingers would pause for a few seconds. Those 40-minute walks, the hot dog stands by the roadside, the half-priced sandwiches snatched from the supermarket—they all seemed to have become imprints. Not sweet, not bitter, just like thorns embedded in her heart, impossible to remove, and not something she wanted to remove. She often asked herself: Do I regret it? The answer never left her lips, but every time she asked, the corner of her mouth would twitch, like a smile, yet not quite.

Some of her friends admired her, while others shook their heads. Some said, “630,000 RMB could have bought a small apartment—why suffer in the UK?” Others felt that studying abroad broadened one’s horizons, making it worth it. She never argued, just lowered her head to sip her coffee, the steam blurring her vision. Perhaps, for her, worth couldn’t be calculated in monetary terms. That year, the cold London wind brushing her face, the yellow supermarket labels clutched in her hand, the silence in her mother’s voice over the phone—these weren’t just numbers but living memories.

After starting work, she began saving money, hoping to take her parents somewhere. Not London, but perhaps a small town in China, staying in a clean hotel and enjoying a meal without having to calculate the cost. She said her parents saved for 20 years to pave her one-year path abroad, and now it was her turn to repay them slowly, even if all she could repay was time. The 5,000 RMB she sent home every month felt like a promise to herself and a kind of reckoning with that 630,000 RMB.

Life goes on. She doesn’t talk much about her future plans, only occasionally posting a photo on social media—the background either her office cubicle or streetlights on her way home from work. No captions, but anyone could tell that the person under those lights wasn’t walking an easy path. Did that 630,000 RMB study abroad experience buy her a 12,000 RMB monthly job or those days of gritting her teeth and persevering? She has no answer, and perhaps she doesn’t need one. Days pass one after another, bills keep coming, and the road stretches ahead.

If you asked her whether she’d do it all over again, she might just smile, lift her coffee cup, and let her gaze drift out the window. The answer lies in the wind, in the silence she never voices. That 630,000 RMB didn’t buy her a diploma or a job—it bought the clenched fists during those late-night discount hunts, the choked silence in her mother’s voice over the phone, and the 5,000 RMB she sends home every month after returning. Was it worth it? Only she knows in her heart.

去英國的錢，是父母攢了20年的血汗。她在倫敦過得緊巴巴，有時候，晚上8點蹲超市門口，等着搶貼黃標籤的打折麵包和蔬菜。學校離住處不近，步行40分鐘是常態，只為省下那張昂貴的地鐵票。有時候，腳底磨出泡，夜裡盯着天花板想：要不回去吧？可電話那頭，母親語氣硬得像鐵，咬牙說堅持下去。她只能咽下猶豫，繼續熬。

回國后，她在別的城市找到一份月薪1.2萬的工作。聽起來不錯，可算算賬，63萬的留學費，像是座大山壓在胸口。按這個速度，攢夠那筆錢，得幾十年。她沒抱怨，每個月往家裡寄5000塊，像是還一筆永遠還不清的債。父母接錢時，電話里總說別寄了，自己留着，可她知道，他們嘴上硬，心裡早就把這當成一種安慰。

留學到底值不值？她沒明說，但眼神里藏着掙扎。偶爾半夜刷手機，看到倫敦街頭的舊照片，手指會停幾秒。那些步行40分鐘的路，路邊賣熱狗的小攤，超市裡搶來的半價三明治，好像都成了某種印記。不是甜，也不是苦，就是扎在心裡的刺，拔不掉，也不想拔。她常自問：後悔嗎？答案沒說出口，但每次問完，嘴角總會扯一下，像笑，又不像。

身邊朋友有的羨慕，有的搖頭。有人說，63萬能買套小房子了，幹嘛非去英國吃苦？也有人覺得，留過學，眼界不一樣，值。她不爭辯，只是低頭喝咖啡，杯子上的熱氣模糊了視線。或許對她來說，值不值不是錢能算出來的。那一年，倫敦的冷風吹過臉，超市的黃標籤攥在手心，母親電話里的沉默，這些都不是數字，是活生生的記憶。

工作后，她開始攢錢，想帶父母出去看看。不是倫敦，可能就是國內某個小城，住個乾淨的酒店，吃頓不用算計的飯。她說，父母攢了20年，換她一年的路，現在她得慢慢還，哪怕還的是時間。每個月寄回去的5000塊，像是她對自己的承諾，也是對那63萬的某種交代。

生活還在繼續。她沒提過太多未來的計劃，只是偶爾在朋友圈發張照片，背景是辦公室的格子間，或者下班路上的街燈。沒配文字，但誰都能看出，那盞燈下的人，走得並不輕鬆。63萬的留學，換來的是月薪1.2萬的工作，還是那段咬牙堅持的日子？她沒答案，可能也不需要答案。日子一天天過，賬單一張張來，路就在腳下。

你問她，如果重來一次，還會去嗎？她可能只會笑笑，端起咖啡杯，眼神飄向窗外。答案在風裡，在她沒說出口的沉默里。63萬，買的不是文憑，也不是工作，而是那些深夜搶黃標籤時攥緊的手心，是母親電話里的哽咽，是回國后每個月寄出的5000塊。值不值，自己心裡有數。