When the phone vibrated for the third time, Sister Lin showed me the screen - a photo of the tiles sent by the construction team, accompanied by the final ultimatum: "The materials have been at the gate for three days, if you don't transfer the payment, we'll give it to someone else."
The Mediterranean arch in her homestay brochure is still at the design stage, while the altcoin account recommended by the cryptocurrency master has shrunk to 28,000 U, just enough to buy twenty sets of bedding.
This is a typical case I encountered in my tenth year of trading cryptocurrencies. Businesspeople always treat the K-line as a purchase order, wanting to stock up when prices drop in anticipation of a rebound. But the blockchain world has no expiration date; junk coins will only rot faster.
"It's still time to cut losses now," I pointed at her transfer record of 35,000 U to the "master," "The deposit you paid to the construction team is worth more than this."
In the moment of clearing out altcoins for stablecoins, her phone popped up a rejection reminder from the homestay booking platform - the peak season is approaching, but her guest rooms are still in a rough state.
In March, ETH was hovering between 2200-2500 dollars, and I had her treat the K-line as a cleaning schedule for the guest rooms: open a long position at 2300 dollars at 9 AM like putting on bed sheets, and open a short position at 2450 dollars at 8 PM like changing pillowcases.
Six thousand dollars entered in two batches, and five days later, the 4200 U earned was just enough to buy twenty goose down quilts. When she closed her position in front of the front desk computer, the construction team was installing chandeliers on the second floor.
In April, during the crucial BTC breakthrough battle, I used the oldest strategy in the futures market: fake breakouts to cut positions, real breakouts to add positions.
On the night when it oscillated around the 60,000 dollar mark, she was checking in guests while watching the market. When the confirming green K-line lit up, the 8,000 dollars in quadruple long positions instantly turned into a rocket heading towards 65,000 dollars.
When she closed her position, the profit was enough to pay the carpenter's salary for the entire year. She was more excited taking a photo to post in the construction group than receiving a five-star review.
At the end of May, the most thrilling moment, when DOT spiked to 29 dollars, she was changing curtains. I was watching the on-chain data and shouted "Add positions," and she trembled as she placed an order for five thousand dollars.
On the day it rebounded to 38 dollars, the newly installed solar water heater released its first stream of hot water, and the guests wrote in the guestbook, "The room is warm like an early summer."
Now her expanded homestay has a sign that says "29 dollars scenic room," this number is the lowest point we survived. The market always rewards those who decisively cut losses and punishes blindly stocking up gamblers.
Once, I was stumbling alone in the dark; now the light is in my hands. The light is always on, will you follow? @币来财888
The Mediterranean arch in her homestay brochure is still at the design stage, while the altcoin account recommended by the cryptocurrency master has shrunk to 28,000 U, just enough to buy twenty sets of bedding.
This is a typical case I encountered in my tenth year of trading cryptocurrencies. Businesspeople always treat the K-line as a purchase order, wanting to stock up when prices drop in anticipation of a rebound. But the blockchain world has no expiration date; junk coins will only rot faster.
"It's still time to cut losses now," I pointed at her transfer record of 35,000 U to the "master," "The deposit you paid to the construction team is worth more than this."
In the moment of clearing out altcoins for stablecoins, her phone popped up a rejection reminder from the homestay booking platform - the peak season is approaching, but her guest rooms are still in a rough state.
In March, ETH was hovering between 2200-2500 dollars, and I had her treat the K-line as a cleaning schedule for the guest rooms: open a long position at 2300 dollars at 9 AM like putting on bed sheets, and open a short position at 2450 dollars at 8 PM like changing pillowcases.
Six thousand dollars entered in two batches, and five days later, the 4200 U earned was just enough to buy twenty goose down quilts. When she closed her position in front of the front desk computer, the construction team was installing chandeliers on the second floor.
In April, during the crucial BTC breakthrough battle, I used the oldest strategy in the futures market: fake breakouts to cut positions, real breakouts to add positions.
On the night when it oscillated around the 60,000 dollar mark, she was checking in guests while watching the market. When the confirming green K-line lit up, the 8,000 dollars in quadruple long positions instantly turned into a rocket heading towards 65,000 dollars.
When she closed her position, the profit was enough to pay the carpenter's salary for the entire year. She was more excited taking a photo to post in the construction group than receiving a five-star review.
At the end of May, the most thrilling moment, when DOT spiked to 29 dollars, she was changing curtains. I was watching the on-chain data and shouted "Add positions," and she trembled as she placed an order for five thousand dollars.
On the day it rebounded to 38 dollars, the newly installed solar water heater released its first stream of hot water, and the guests wrote in the guestbook, "The room is warm like an early summer."
Now her expanded homestay has a sign that says "29 dollars scenic room," this number is the lowest point we survived. The market always rewards those who decisively cut losses and punishes blindly stocking up gamblers.
Once, I was stumbling alone in the dark; now the light is in my hands. The light is always on, will you follow? @币来财888
