Night of Liquidation
At 3 a.m., the blue light from his phone screen cast a glow over Chen’s face. He stared at the candlestick chart, his eyes bloodshot—he hadn’t slept for six straight hours.
Three days ago, Chen saw PHA drop from 0.035 all the way to around 0.036. He was convinced it was just a small-cap coin’s brief pullback that wouldn’t go anywhere. He opened the futures page, selected 50x leverage to go short, and bet that PHA would keep falling. The moment he placed the order, he felt certain he was in complete control. After all, with a coin this small in market cap, how high could it possibly go?
On the first day, PHA barely moved. Chen’s floating profit was a few hundred U. Feeling pleased with himself, he took screenshots and posted them to the group, captioned: “Short small coins, lie back and profit.” Someone in the group reminded him that on-chain data had been acting strangely lately and urged him to be careful. Chen dismissed it—he figured they were just jealous of his gains.
The second night, PHA suddenly started pumping, climbing from 0.04 all the way to 0.05. Chen’s floating profit turned into a floating loss, but he refused to close his position, gritting his teeth. “This is definitely a bull trap. It’ll drop back soon.” He kept reassuring himself, and even added margin, terrified of getting liquidated.
By the early hours of the third day, the news suddenly turned favorable—PHA’s partners officially announced a major project. The price shot up like a rocket: 0.055, 0.06, 0.065. Chen’s position was already on the brink; the liquidation price was hovering right overhead. His hands shook as he tried to close manually, but just then, the network lagged.
When he finally refreshed the page, all that remained on the screen was a cold line of text: Your position has been forcibly liquidated.
Chen just stared at the screen, numb. His entire 3200 U in the account had gone to zero. PHA’s latest price stopped at 0.0606, up 66.9% over the past 24 hours. If he had gone long instead of short back then, that money would have tripled.
He turned off his phone, lay down on the bed, and stared at the ceiling. Outside, dawn was almost here—the birdsong was piercing. He remembered something the old-timers had told him in his first year in the market: “Futures are a casino. Spot is the investment.” At the time, he didn’t believe it. He thought he was smarter than those who got liquidated.
Now he understood: in the crypto market, nobody is smarter than the market.
That next noon, Chen reopened the APP. PHA was still rising. MUBARAK was up 34%, and KMNO up 30%. The whole market was buzzing, as if nothing had happened last night.
He quietly changed the leverage on the futures page to 1x, then transferred all his funds to a spot account.
This night’s tuition cost him 3200 U. He didn’t know whether it was expensive or not, but he knew—this might be the cheapest lesson of his entire life.
#合约爆仓 #PHA #cryptocurrency
At 3 a.m., the blue light from his phone screen cast a glow over Chen’s face. He stared at the candlestick chart, his eyes bloodshot—he hadn’t slept for six straight hours.
Three days ago, Chen saw PHA drop from 0.035 all the way to around 0.036. He was convinced it was just a small-cap coin’s brief pullback that wouldn’t go anywhere. He opened the futures page, selected 50x leverage to go short, and bet that PHA would keep falling. The moment he placed the order, he felt certain he was in complete control. After all, with a coin this small in market cap, how high could it possibly go?
On the first day, PHA barely moved. Chen’s floating profit was a few hundred U. Feeling pleased with himself, he took screenshots and posted them to the group, captioned: “Short small coins, lie back and profit.” Someone in the group reminded him that on-chain data had been acting strangely lately and urged him to be careful. Chen dismissed it—he figured they were just jealous of his gains.
The second night, PHA suddenly started pumping, climbing from 0.04 all the way to 0.05. Chen’s floating profit turned into a floating loss, but he refused to close his position, gritting his teeth. “This is definitely a bull trap. It’ll drop back soon.” He kept reassuring himself, and even added margin, terrified of getting liquidated.
By the early hours of the third day, the news suddenly turned favorable—PHA’s partners officially announced a major project. The price shot up like a rocket: 0.055, 0.06, 0.065. Chen’s position was already on the brink; the liquidation price was hovering right overhead. His hands shook as he tried to close manually, but just then, the network lagged.
When he finally refreshed the page, all that remained on the screen was a cold line of text: Your position has been forcibly liquidated.
Chen just stared at the screen, numb. His entire 3200 U in the account had gone to zero. PHA’s latest price stopped at 0.0606, up 66.9% over the past 24 hours. If he had gone long instead of short back then, that money would have tripled.
He turned off his phone, lay down on the bed, and stared at the ceiling. Outside, dawn was almost here—the birdsong was piercing. He remembered something the old-timers had told him in his first year in the market: “Futures are a casino. Spot is the investment.” At the time, he didn’t believe it. He thought he was smarter than those who got liquidated.
Now he understood: in the crypto market, nobody is smarter than the market.
That next noon, Chen reopened the APP. PHA was still rising. MUBARAK was up 34%, and KMNO up 30%. The whole market was buzzing, as if nothing had happened last night.
He quietly changed the leverage on the futures page to 1x, then transferred all his funds to a spot account.
This night’s tuition cost him 3200 U. He didn’t know whether it was expensive or not, but he knew—this might be the cheapest lesson of his entire life.
#合约爆仓 #PHA #cryptocurrency