"Those who have borne a son can quietly grow old," is an oft-repeated Chinese saying. But in their rapidly-ageing society, many Chinese find themselves overwhelmed by the financial responsibility for their parents. "My parents are relying on my help. But I don't know where the money will be coming from," complains Zhang Jinrong. "I scarcely earn enough money to support myself."
A year ago, the 25-year-old employee of an investment company came to Beijing from Lanzhou, capital of the western province Gansu - in hopes of earning enough money to be able to support his retired parents, since China lacks a comprehensive retirement system.
His parents are relatively better-off. As a former civil servant, his father gets a monthly pension of 700 yuan (93 dollars). His mother lost her pension entitlements when the company where she was a bookkeeper was privatised and she was dismissed. All she can claim is state support of 200 yuan. The parents' money barely covers the rent.
"Especially in the cities it is far too little," Zhang Jinrong says with a note of resignation in his voice. "Beside which, many people receive nothing at all."
According to state statistics, the average monthly retirement pension is 963 yuan. But only one-fourth of the working population can lay claim to a pension. In rural areas, it is only 10 per cent.
The state pension system is exclusively reserved for employees of state-owned companies and civil servants. The rural population and migrant workers are left out in the cold. By official account, more than 10 million pensioners are living below the poverty line in China, which is defined at the very low level of 700 yuan per year.
China's one-child policy has made the problem worse. Many young couples, children of that policy, must now care for four parents. In extreme cases, there are also eight grandparents to feed as well.
The large family clans which in the past took care of their old together scarcely exist any longer, at least in the cities. The biggest problem is the often lack of, or inadequate, health insurance.
"As long as everyone is healthy, then with a bit of luck you can just about keep managing," Zhang Jinrong - himself and only child - says with a sigh. "But as soon as hospital bills start coming, then you don't have a chance any more."
A heart operation for his grandmother was to have cost 30,000 yuan. "Nobody has that kind of money! We simply had to leave her to her fate," he says with tears in his eyes about her death a year ago.
A similar picture emerges when parents can no longer cope on their own. "I can't earn money here in Beijing and at the same time be in Lanzhou," Zhang says. "And they're too old to move elsewhere." Nursing homes are a rarity. Even in the affluent province of Guangdong, the average waiting period for a bed is 30 months, state media complain. In many other provinces the situation looks no better. In any case, only very few families can afford the high costs of care for the elderly.
As a result, fears are growing among the Chinese about getting old. In the most recent survey, 90 per cent said that they had serious concerns about their pensions. Nearly half of the 3,871 questioned said that they would have to rely completely on themselves when they get old, the China Daily reported.
In the meantime, the population is ageing rapidly. Today, 11 per cent of the Chinese, or 144 million people, are already over 60 years old. By the year 2050, according to World Bank projections, the figures will be 460 million, or 31 per cent.
Beginning this year, poor rural inhabitants in many provinces have at least been eligible of state support averaging 33.20 yuan (4.3 dollars) a month. In the cities, the support ranges between 200 and 1,000 yuan, depending on the region.
Where possible, the younger generation is already trying to put aside money for their old age. But for the older people, it is too late. Particularly in the poorer regions of China it is the children who must continue to bear the main burden of caring for the old.