There’s a guy in the group—he’s a man. He’s been “trading” for seven years and claims to be “Level 9 disabled.” It’s not a joke. He genuinely believes the tuition he’s paid is enough to build a driving school.
His first pitfall was炒空气币 (trading air coins). Back in 2020, the project team called it DeFi. He seriously helped people do “VC due diligence,” looked at a tiny icon in the whitepaper and said, “The endorsement is really solid.” After he bought, it went to zero after half a month, and the community scattered even more thoroughly than his ex. — The only asset he had was a bot that occasionally popped up in a group.
Second pitfall: the Píxiū (貔貅) staking/fund pool. That day he clicked to buy, paid the fees, and the price jumped 100%. He was delighted. When the next day he tried to sell, he realized the coin he bought had never—since its creation—opened seller permissions. It “locked” him straight into the liquidity pool. He sat in the whale ranking for two months staring at his own name. Not even his mom, pointing at him and urging him, could make it happen—he couldn’t break out of that step.
Third pitfall: chasing the price. In 2021, he leveraged a 15x long.
That time was the first time in his life he felt what “the critical-hit confirmation button” is—about a week later he posted a Moment of WeChat: in the kitchen he was cooking three packs of instant noodles, because the financial product’s “lock-up period” would run only through early 2022. His original words: “I thought I was digging for gold—turns out I was firing up a liquidity-emission device for users worldwide.”
Last week he had hot pot. After the bill was settled, while the waiter was clearing the table, he coined a new term—“爆仓拉磨” (liquidation, pulling the millstone): in a big bear market, for two and a half years, nothing went to zero—just repeatedly lifting people’s sedan/horse-drawn platform for them. He’s learned his lesson now. He bought a batch of BTC—about 20 to 30 thousand—and left it alone in a cold wallet, “treating it as a bone with memorial significance.”
As he lifted the meat, he added one more line: “I’ve stepped into your tuition-fee pits three times already. How many have you stepped into?”
#币圈故事 #old veteran trader
His first pitfall was炒空气币 (trading air coins). Back in 2020, the project team called it DeFi. He seriously helped people do “VC due diligence,” looked at a tiny icon in the whitepaper and said, “The endorsement is really solid.” After he bought, it went to zero after half a month, and the community scattered even more thoroughly than his ex. — The only asset he had was a bot that occasionally popped up in a group.
Second pitfall: the Píxiū (貔貅) staking/fund pool. That day he clicked to buy, paid the fees, and the price jumped 100%. He was delighted. When the next day he tried to sell, he realized the coin he bought had never—since its creation—opened seller permissions. It “locked” him straight into the liquidity pool. He sat in the whale ranking for two months staring at his own name. Not even his mom, pointing at him and urging him, could make it happen—he couldn’t break out of that step.
Third pitfall: chasing the price. In 2021, he leveraged a 15x long.
That time was the first time in his life he felt what “the critical-hit confirmation button” is—about a week later he posted a Moment of WeChat: in the kitchen he was cooking three packs of instant noodles, because the financial product’s “lock-up period” would run only through early 2022. His original words: “I thought I was digging for gold—turns out I was firing up a liquidity-emission device for users worldwide.”
Last week he had hot pot. After the bill was settled, while the waiter was clearing the table, he coined a new term—“爆仓拉磨” (liquidation, pulling the millstone): in a big bear market, for two and a half years, nothing went to zero—just repeatedly lifting people’s sedan/horse-drawn platform for them. He’s learned his lesson now. He bought a batch of BTC—about 20 to 30 thousand—and left it alone in a cold wallet, “treating it as a bone with memorial significance.”
As he lifted the meat, he added one more line: “I’ve stepped into your tuition-fee pits three times already. How many have you stepped into?”
#币圈故事 #old veteran trader