QDaily's Big Survey: Where Does College Students' Money Go? We Have at Least 39 Answers

More than 50 face-to-face interviews and close to 2,000 online survey responses — we tried to give you some clues for understanding a group that is clearly already very important.

Editor's note: QDaily is about to launch a special feature built around interviews and a series of short stories. We talked face-to-face with more than 50 college students about how they spend money, how they think about work and love, how they handle their own anxiety and confusion, and how they use the apps on their phones, among other things. These students are current undergraduates or recent graduates, from Nanjing University, Sichuan University, South China Agricultural University, Shanghai International Studies University, Tianjin Normal University, Peking University, the University of Electronic Science and Technology of China... and more.

At the same time, we put out an online survey on the same topic. So far close to 2,000 people have submitted answers, from all kinds of universities. You can also see what more people think about these "grand questions."

QDaily didn't do any of this to collect statistical-report data. It grew out of a plain curiosity: "How do college students spend money these days?" That question then set off a whole chain of curiosity. The first piece you'll see here tries to answer it — or more precisely, uses our interviewees' answers to lay out some views. It isn't statistically representative, but it's enough to show a few things. We welcome your comments.

"I feel like I can ask my family for an iPad, but I'd be embarrassed to ask them for something like a Big Bang concert." Susie, a senior economics major at Sichuan University who had graduated a few days earlier, has her own rules about what to ask her family for and what to earn, or save, on her own.

In fact, while everyone's four years of college spending add up to one big "muddled account," each of them has still set some rules for how to spend money. Those rules might explain why, among a group whose appetite for consumption is just beginning to bloom, some products succeed and others get ignored.

But that isn't the most important part.

Since China's higher-education reform in 1999, more than 6 million people like Susie graduate from college every year. Count students currently enrolled and the most conservative estimate is 30 million. The first figure is only slightly smaller than the total population of Hong Kong; the second is roughly the total population of Saudi Arabia, the 45th most populous country in the world (2015 data).

What these people have in common right now: they're roughly 18 to 22 years old, and they have no income. But underestimating them for that reason could be a serious mistake. Over the next few years they'll become the people who lead consumption and set trends — they'll buy homes, get married, have children...

There are countless labels attached to them.

Most of their parents were born in the late 1960s or early 1970s, and since their own upbringing was anything but smooth, those parents did everything they could to give their children the best living and educational conditions. Many students are the first generation in their family to attend college, and their parents' expectations of them have never let up.

They grew up with the near-total attention of their parents and both sets of grandparents, but society has changed so fast that sometimes even their elders have no experience to offer.

They are the genuine post-90s generation, mostly only children. They want to make friends, but the people around them are so varied that finding their own identity isn't easy — sometimes even supporting an idol is partly a way of expressing themselves.

They are also called millennials (in China, people born between 1984 and 1996) — a group of 400 million in China, 31% of the country's population. Goldman Sachs has called them "the single most important demographic group alive on the planet right now."

Because they matter so much, plenty of reports and write-ups have piled still more labels onto them.

Forbes described them as a group "not interested in saving the universe, but eager to live in the moment," unwilling to be bound by the traditional definition of "success," wanting to experience a life of their own. Take a survey by J. Walter Thompson: rather than following a set path, 27% of 15-to-25-year-olds said taking a gap year to do what they want is a great life experience.

Film and television let them glimpse the outside world early — "Youku Tudou alone carries 12,000 episodes of American TV shows, and most viewers are millennials." A survey by GVC Capital also found that 51% of them spend an hour a day watching video online and an hour playing games, and stay home most of the time. For them, "staying in" and "gaming" stopped being negative words long ago.

Society likes to call them reckless spenders, but a financial-literacy study released by Tsinghua University last month found that 60% of post-90s college students believe "even one yuan needs managing." Even though the most they're willing to invest is 1,000 yuan, 40% of post-90s college students have tried trading stocks or buying funds.

Our survey results suggest that a lot of college students don't do this to get rich overnight. It comes from curiosity and a wish to build up experience — and it gives them one more thing to talk about with the people around them.

Their money-managing also carries a sense of crisis. In a report on the post-90s generation, the research firm Youthology wrote that this generation entered adulthood early. After 2008 especially, they faced earthquakes, environmental pollution, job-market pressure, rising living costs and a shrinking path upward — pressures that forced them to see society's risks and limits sooner than the generations before them.

Growing up, their parents told them, "Get into college, get a good education, and you'll have a good life." That formula may still have worked for their parents' generation, but by the time this generation graduates they find it no longer holds. What they have to face may be a great deal more.

Their spending — note, not just the allowance their parents give them, but everything they spend — runs 2,000 to 3,000 yuan a month, judging from our survey at the relatively good schools. Remember the 30 million currently enrolled students we mentioned at the start? You can't simply multiply the two figures (2,000 to 3,000 is obviously not a median), but you can sense how enormous the consumer group behind it is.

Still, after talking with more than 50 students, we found that boiling it all down into one tidy summary of "how college students spend money" is hard — every one of their stories is interesting in its own way. Besides, for most students who aren't yet financially independent, how they spend money isn't the point. What matters more may be their attitude toward money and, as you can imagine, the view of wealth they'll carry into the future.

Susie, from the opening, leaves Sichuan University on June 25. She has been to seven or eight farewell dinners that seemed to have no end, and around graduation those meals cost her about 500 yuan in all. She is about to start her career at Ernst & Young (later renamed EY), one of the "Big Four" accounting firms, in Shenzhen.

She told us that in Shenzhen this job typically pays 7,500 yuan a month. If she is still there in three years, her income will reach 10,000 yuan.

What does 10,000 yuan mean? By the latest 2015 figures, average monthly income in China was 4,134 yuan per person — so Susie will earn more than twice the average. Add their greater willingness to "invest in themselves," and they become the "mainstream group" a number of brands are watching. Even Maybelline, which kept "New York" in its slogan for decades, changed it to "Being Beautiful Now" to court this crowd in China that likes to live in the moment.

Our thinking always starts from a discovery like this one. Now let's look at more of what they said.

The College Students We Talked To: Where Did Their Money Go

I follow dozens of fashion bloggers on Weibo, and I look at how they dress when I'm putting an outfit together. The outfit I wore the other day came from a blogger's recommendation — I find it really useful.

— A senior English literature major at Peking University who asked not to be named.

I buy things in installments. I study math, so I can work out the discount rate. If it's interest-free, I'll use JD's Baitiao credit; if there's interest, I do the math first. I borrow partly to build a credit record, because bank loans leave a record, and a good record can help me get a company loan or buy a home later.

— A math major at Tsinghua University who thinks a long way ahead. He is currently on leave from school to start a business.

There's not much I want in the first place, so if you miss it, you're unlikely to get a second chance.

— Gao Yi, a senior architecture major at Sichuan University. Her line: "Even a fortune can't buy my happiness."

I've never once managed to save money. I figure you spend what you have and enjoy life within your means... Once it's spent, it's spent — buy it first, worry later... But I also really hate the feeling of owing money.

— Zheng Jiayu, a senior economics major at Sichuan University.

Keeping a budget is supposed to help you control your spending, but I've realized I'm the type who buys what she likes. I won't force myself to stick to it — and if I see I've overspent badly in a given month, it really gets me down.

— Tao Jiayi, a senior mechanical engineering major at Shanghai Jiao Tong University. "Not looking" might be a good strategy.

Freshman and sophomore year I spent 2,000 a month; junior and senior year it became 3,000. The extra went to clothes and makeup — over those last two years I bought more than twenty lipsticks. Lipstick changes my mood.

— Tao Jiayi again. She's right about that: lipstick is one of the best things to sell in a financial crisis.

Earning money really isn't easy. You get to see all kinds of people — the ones bringing phones in for repair are mostly middle-aged aunties and uncles, the sort you don't always communicate well with. The work is tiring, especially basic labor like this, but it's also a kind of vaccination: once you actually enter society, it definitely won't be as simple and easy as being a student.

— Sun Shu, a senior math major at Sichuan University. He likes buying shoes and books, and has watched Mr. Six three times and Captain America: Civil War twice.

The biggest single expense of my college years was getting my driver's license, 5,000 yuan. My parents covered part of it and I paid the rest out of my own savings.

— Chao Yue, a senior physics major at Peking University, already admitted to a direct PhD program.

I'm crazy about anime, and I "invest" in it. Posters, printed goods, mecha design books, fan-made doujinshi — they also put out keychains, or little notebooks with characters printed on them. This stuff is pretty expensive, tens or even hundreds of yuan a piece. I buy it because it's a kind of sentimental attachment; I don't care whether I use it every day. When you see it, you feel: this is my life, this is part of me.

— Zhang Xiadan, a graduating senior Chinese literature major at Sichuan University. She calls this "investing" — though, of course, the right to define what words mean should belong to Chinese majors.

I keep some money in my bank card and some in Yu'ebao. More and more of my spending goes through Yu'ebao now. Paying with your phone doesn't hurt the way handing over cash does, so the money slips away without you noticing — a hundred yuan can be gone in a moment.

— Xue Yan, a senior Japanese major at Shanghai International Studies University. She figured out how the world works far too early.

My parents have no sense of financial management, so I handle their bank accounts. I started using Yu'ebao in high school, but the interest is low. Now I put money into a lot of P2P lending products — as many as a dozen at once, all from my phone. The annual return is 10% to 11%; anything above 12% and I get cautious.

— Kong Qingxun, a freshman marketing major at Jinan University. Notice that — a freshman. May China's economy hold out until he graduates.

Looking at my own Taobao bill makes me anxious. I can plainly feel that I can't even support myself.

— Zhang Shu, a senior architecture major at Sichuan University. She'll eat 1.5-yuan fried rice so she can afford Super Junior.

Back then online banking hadn't turned on quick payment yet — you needed a dynamic password token to pay. So I handed my token to a classmate and had her take it home with her. After that I couldn't shop online at all, and I really did save a huge amount. Even the albums I'd normally buy went unbought, so that money was saved too.

— Zhang Shu again. She's tough on herself; she used what she saved to travel to Guangzhou.

As a freshman I started with 2,000 yuan a month for living expenses, and I'd spend more than 1,000 of it on books. Back then there were sales every month, and whenever I saw one I'd click buy. My first Singles' Day in college I spent more than 2,000 yuan, maybe more. Every day I ate two steamed buns dipped in soy sauce, or Lao Gan Ma chili sauce mixed into rice, plus free soup from the cafeteria. That's how I got through it.

— Guo Haochen, a senior journalism major at Nanjing University's School of Journalism and Communication.

The study-abroad agency charged me 52,000 yuan, nowhere near what it was worth — all they did was help me pick schools and edit a few application essays. The base fee was 48,000; add 5,000 for top-30 schools and another 10,000 for top-15 schools. If I could do it again, I definitely wouldn't use an agency.

— Zhe Yi, a senior in environmental science and engineering at Shanghai Jiao Tong University. Getting fleeced? First you need the money to get fleeced with.

I took a year off after my sophomore year and made close to a million yuan by 20. I teach guys how to date at the "Bad Boys Academy." I have more than 10,000 students, each paying 1,000 yuan in tuition. I've traveled to 10 countries.

— Niss, a sophomore math major at the University of Electronic Science and Technology of China in Chengdu. He also runs an outdoor-activities company and an influencer incubator. We'll tell you what the "Bad Boys Academy" is in one of the stories coming in the next few days.

I think the money most worth spending is money invested in yourself — education, learning, and also how you look. That's usually where I spend the most. I'm still fairly rational, not prone to impulse buying. If I think something is useful, I work out what I'll use it for. The most expensive thing I bought in college was a bag, about 12,000 yuan, paid with my own card, and I still use it.

— Yu Bing, a senior in the School of Geography and Ocean Science at Nanjing University. Both she and the way she bought that bag seem very rational.

My Engel coefficient is off the charts — food is the biggest chunk. When I go out I can eat my way from the Bund all the way to Xujiahui: fresh-meat mooncakes on Nanjing Road, pan-fried buns, beef pan-fried buns, lamb skewers, xiaolongbao... one mooncake is 5 yuan, two for 8. I spend at least 50 or 60 yuan a day on street snacks alone.

— Ding Yijun, a senior communication studies major at Shanghai Jiao Tong University. Nicely done, dressing up being a foodie in such academic language.

I don't think any spending is justified — it's all manufactured demand. Fitness, for example, is manufactured. I used to work out, but I gave it up; it took too much time. I kept it up for a month or two. I need to put more energy into studying.

— Ding again, the one reciting the menu above. You really haven't heard that "supply side" is the fashionable phrase now?

I didn't start wearing makeup until senior year. My roommate came back from her internship and told me I couldn't go on like this, so I went to Etude House and bought a full set — eyebrow pencil, brow powder, mascara, eyeliner pencil, eyeliner gel, contour, highlighter, BB cream, primer, lipstick, and so on. It came to 700 or 800 yuan.

— Muki, a senior computer science major at Shanghai Jiao Tong University.

Before I buy a camera I read a pile of reviews, draw up a shortlist, go through sample photos, check model numbers and compare specs — a lot of research, until I find the camera that's right for me. The happiest moment falls somewhere between placing the order and opening the box; after that the happiness drops off a cliff.

— The same student. On the road of materialism, she is no beginner.

I bought three bicycles in college: a Decathlon 5.1 for 1,200 yuan, a Merida Warrior for 1,500 and a used Dahon P8 for 1,800 — all with gears. Riding them around campus looks cool, cute and sharp at once. But they're too expensive, so I'm a little scared leaving them parked downstairs.

— Her again.

Before an internship at McKinsey I bought a very expensive bag, because on my first day I saw every single intern carrying Prada or Dior to work. Really. I felt I couldn't be the one to lose face, and I told my mom right then: if I have to carry a backpack to work every day, forget it, I can't do this. So the whole internship went toward covering that upfront spending. When everyone around you carries Prada to work, you start to feel money matters quite a lot... I picked a lower-key brand, one where people couldn't tell at a glance what it was.

— A senior at Fudan University who asked not to be named. An internship can move your spending up a tier.

Before I interned at L'Oréal I didn't even use facial cleanser. Then one day I looked in the mirror and noticed all these little freckles from the sun, and I thought, that's it, my youth is over, I have to take this seriously... After that I poured money in, one or two thousand yuan a month, and it kept escalating. Shiseido, SK-II. A face mask every two or three days, and something on my face morning and night. Serum and face cream get swapped out every month.

— The same internship-loving student.

My biggest expense in college was still electronics; phones and computers took the most. I bought my phone with JD Baitiao installments... But I know what I should and shouldn't buy. There's plenty I wanted and never got: all kinds of Marvel merchandise, very high-end outdoor gear, the 7,000- to 8,000-yuan hardshell jackets, all sorts of bike parts.

— Bai Cheng'an, a senior fluid mechanics major at Peking University. A shame — will you still buy the Marvel merch someday?

The most expensive thing I paid for in college was probably registering for the TOEFL. That's over 1,600 yuan, and then you have to stay a few nights away, so with the hotel and travel each sitting cost about 2,000 yuan.

— Wang Bolun, a senior environmental chemistry major at Nanjing University. We really want to ask: besides studying, was there truly no other big expense?

The way I understand money now is just: buy the things you want. Daily necessities are worth paying for. When I buy clothes the material has to be good, all cotton; I don't mind about style, I don't think you need to chase trends, I'd rather have something I can wear for several years, something practical... I don't worry much about whether I have money, maybe because what I have is already enough for me.

— Xu Jie, a senior Korean major at Shanghai International Studies University. You have to start young to become middle class.

My family lives in central Shanghai, and my mom just picked out an apartment for me right outside our door. Do the math: at 90,000 yuan a square meter now, a whole year's salary — not eating, not drinking — barely buys one square meter. Two people's income together would take 35 years to buy a small 70-square-meter place.

— Now that is genuinely middle class. Xu Jie again.

I don't take earning money that seriously, because living in this era, I don't think you'll starve or freeze. As long as you keep your energy up, you won't end up with nowhere to live; you'll get by. People live for a better state that they're after. Sometimes, once you're in a good state, you don't need to think about money — money follows you.

— An optimist who asked not to be named, a senior in landscape architecture at Tongji University.

Last semester we suddenly realized our lives were pretty boring — we only ever lived in the daytime world, and we wanted to see the nighttime one... The international students at our school took us to a lot of places, once or twice a week. I found out that for foreigners, going out at night has been normal since childhood... We've been to some very good clubs, with steep cover charges, the kind of place where plenty of celebrities turn up.

— Qingqing, a senior in cultural industry management at Tongji University. Here is someone who can make clubbing sound philosophical. What we're curious about: does this argument get your parents to raise your allowance?

I've realized I can't tell whether what I buy on Taobao is real or fake. If you want a piece of clothing on Taobao, dozens of shops sell the same thing, and you might spend two hours comparing prices to save 10 yuan. The time cost feels far too high to me, and it isn't a good shopping experience either, so I decided to buy in physical stores... You don't go out only to shop. You can get a meal with friends while you're there, duck into a fitting room and try things on — even clothes you'd never wear — and then take a ton of selfies. That's what I do.

— Qingqing on Taobao.

Anything I want is worth paying for — a Kindle, clothes I like. What isn't worth it... going out to eat with people I don't like, the meals I can't refuse out of politeness, class dinners and so on. Once it's arranged I have to go, I don't enjoy it once I'm there, and the whole trip was unnecessary.

— Lü Bingjie, a senior Russian major at Tianjin Normal University.

Now that I earn my own money, I often buy my parents things they may not think they need but I think matter. Recently I wanted an air purifier. My family is from Hebei, where the air isn't good either, so I figured my parents needed one too. If I'm using something myself, they should have it as well; I shouldn't be the only one enjoying it. The air purifier was a bit over 1,000 yuan.

— This thoughtful Peking University student is an advertising major, a senior about to graduate.

Ever since I got into rock climbing, most of my money has gone to climbing gear. Shoes, for instance: an entry-level pair is 300 yuan, and they only last a semester or two before you need new ones. I'm about to replace mine, and next time I want a pair over 600. There's also the chalk powder you use for climbing.

— Another student who asked not to be named. He spends on his hobby. He's a junior in the electronics department at Peking University.

I started liking Kris Wu in 2013, watching Happy Camp. I just thought, how can anyone be this handsome, this sunny. I bought several magazines with Kris Wu in them, more than 200 yuan in all — magazines I would never have bought before. It's not about pushing up his sales figures, I just wanted to see the issue with his content in it. Like the time I bought a copy of Rayli: the content was terrible, barely any interview pages, and I didn't even like the outfit in the shoot, but he was in the photos, so I bought it.

— Qin Yi, a senior journalism major at Nanjing University. Sounds like a fairly restrained fan. Also, no idea how things have gone since.

Working out makes both my mental and physical state better. Over winter and summer break I go home and hire a personal trainer, 300 yuan an hour, three or four sessions a week, every other day, an hour each. Altogether I've spent five or six thousand yuan. I think it worked — at least my body shape improved. I haven't controlled my diet at all, I still eat and drink what I like... There were times I wanted to quit, it's exhausting. The reason I didn't was that I'd already spent so much on the trainer I couldn't bear to waste it.

— Xiao Ran, a senior in drama and literature at Tianjin Normal University. A student who already understands sunk costs.

I went to class for a month or two as a freshman, then got into esports and stopped attending altogether — I often stayed overnight at internet cafes. My family gave me two to three thousand yuan a month for college, and whenever that ran short I made more by gaming: taking orders to boost other players' ranks. Gaming brought in anywhere from a few hundred to 10,000 yuan a month; 10,000 meant grinding like mad the whole month. It's priced by order, 400 to 500 yuan per tier, for anything below Platinum. Gaming was my one way of making money in college. I could earn every month, it just depended on whether I felt like playing... Now, when I have time, I also livestream. Internet-cafe costs run one to two thousand yuan a month, a mouse-and-keyboard setup is two to three thousand, and I've spent 20,000 to 30,000 yuan on in-game skins and outfits — yes, 20,000 to 30,000 on skins, outfits, that kind of thing. I also play League of Legends, Hearthstone and DNF, another 10,000 to 20,000 yuan in those games.

— Pan Chen, a senior in international trade at Tianjin Normal University. A real player.

I never used to wear makeup. Then, interning at Uniqlo in Japan, I noticed Japanese girls all went out with makeup on, so I started buying cosmetics and clothes like mad. Cosmetics at drugstores, clothes at the department stores around Shinjuku and Shibuya. The most expensive single item I've bought is probably Albion's Skin Conditioner, 500 or 600 yuan a bottle, but for small items like lip balm I keep it under 200. As for what to buy and what to skip, I also go by the @cosme award recommendations.

— Cui Ying, a senior Japanese major at Shanghai International Studies University. More proof that internships are the right way to level up.

My mom thinks you buy what's necessary and don't buy what isn't. I think you should be a bit kinder to yourself. If I like something, I'll buy it even when other people would say it's poor value, and even if I have to tighten my belt afterward. I once bought a ukulele because I wanted to learn — I never told my parents. I signed up for two classes at the time, priced between 300 and 1,000 yuan.

— Wang Mengfei, a senior at Tongji University's School of Medicine. The real question is who holds the right to define "necessary."

Note: Luo Zhen also contributed to this article.

QDaily's College Student Survey: The Results About Money

Note: This survey was launched by QDaily on the Sojump platform on June 6, 2016. As of midday on June 20, 1,889 people had taken part.