Legend of the Dog Coin
At 3:30 a.m., Chen Lei’s phone screen lit up, casting a glow on his bloodshot eyes.
He stared at NIL’s candlestick chart. Today, the coin had surged from 0.048 to 0.075, an increase of over forty percent. The group chat was already going crazy—everyone was shouting, “Get on!” “It’s going to keep rising!” Chen Lei’s hands trembled—not from fear, but from excitement. Last month, he’d been trapped in FTT for eighty thousand. Now only twenty thousand remained in his account.
“Just go all in.” He gritted his teeth and poured his entire twenty thousand into NIL, buying at 0.062.
As soon as he finished buying, regret hit. The price began to retrace: 0.060, 0.058, 0.055. Every green candle felt like a knife piercing his heart. He didn’t dare to look at the group chat, afraid of seeing someone say, “It’s over.” He flipped his phone face down on the table, went to the kitchen, poured a cup of water, and stood there for ten minutes before he dared to check again.
When he looked, it was 0.053.
That was it—he was losing again. He started calculating how much longer he could hold on. His mind filled with images from his previous liquidation—what it felt like after forced liquidation, the account going to zero, like someone pushing you off a cliff.
But this time was different.
The next morning at seven, he was jolted awake by his alarm. Half-asleep, he reached for his phone. NIL’s price was sitting at 0.071. He thought he must be seeing things, rubbed his eyes, and checked again.
It had risen.
He’d bought at 0.062; now it was 0.071—up fourteen percent in unrealized profit.
He didn’t sell.
Over the next three days, NIL was like it had taken off on a rocket. 0.08, 0.09, 0.11. In the group, people who had been shouting “Get on!” started shouting “Target 0.2!” Chen Lei’s heartbeat kept speeding up. He set a take-profit at 0.10, then canceled it and changed it to 0.12. Every time he wanted to sell, he felt like it could rise even more.
On the fifth day, NIL surged to 0.15.
Chen Lei’s hand hovered over the sell button. He hesitated for a full five minutes. In the end, he clicked “sell all.” The moment the trade went through, he felt a huge weight finally drop from his chest. His account balance went from twenty thousand to forty-eight thousand.
He stared at that number for a long time, then turned off his phone, went out, and ate a bowl of beef noodles.
The owner of the noodle shop asked why he was so happy today. He smiled and said, “Nothing much—just good luck.”
But he knew in his heart: this wasn’t luck. It was the only lesson he learned after losing hundreds of thousands—before greed consumed you, leave first.
Later, NIL fell from 0.15 back to 0.08, and the group chat turned into one long chorus of despair. Chen Lei didn’t say a word. He quietly transferred the remaining money out of the exchange.
Some money—once you’ve earned it, you should take it and leave.
#NIL #加密货币 #Contract liquidation
At 3:30 a.m., Chen Lei’s phone screen lit up, casting a glow on his bloodshot eyes.
He stared at NIL’s candlestick chart. Today, the coin had surged from 0.048 to 0.075, an increase of over forty percent. The group chat was already going crazy—everyone was shouting, “Get on!” “It’s going to keep rising!” Chen Lei’s hands trembled—not from fear, but from excitement. Last month, he’d been trapped in FTT for eighty thousand. Now only twenty thousand remained in his account.
“Just go all in.” He gritted his teeth and poured his entire twenty thousand into NIL, buying at 0.062.
As soon as he finished buying, regret hit. The price began to retrace: 0.060, 0.058, 0.055. Every green candle felt like a knife piercing his heart. He didn’t dare to look at the group chat, afraid of seeing someone say, “It’s over.” He flipped his phone face down on the table, went to the kitchen, poured a cup of water, and stood there for ten minutes before he dared to check again.
When he looked, it was 0.053.
That was it—he was losing again. He started calculating how much longer he could hold on. His mind filled with images from his previous liquidation—what it felt like after forced liquidation, the account going to zero, like someone pushing you off a cliff.
But this time was different.
The next morning at seven, he was jolted awake by his alarm. Half-asleep, he reached for his phone. NIL’s price was sitting at 0.071. He thought he must be seeing things, rubbed his eyes, and checked again.
It had risen.
He’d bought at 0.062; now it was 0.071—up fourteen percent in unrealized profit.
He didn’t sell.
Over the next three days, NIL was like it had taken off on a rocket. 0.08, 0.09, 0.11. In the group, people who had been shouting “Get on!” started shouting “Target 0.2!” Chen Lei’s heartbeat kept speeding up. He set a take-profit at 0.10, then canceled it and changed it to 0.12. Every time he wanted to sell, he felt like it could rise even more.
On the fifth day, NIL surged to 0.15.
Chen Lei’s hand hovered over the sell button. He hesitated for a full five minutes. In the end, he clicked “sell all.” The moment the trade went through, he felt a huge weight finally drop from his chest. His account balance went from twenty thousand to forty-eight thousand.
He stared at that number for a long time, then turned off his phone, went out, and ate a bowl of beef noodles.
The owner of the noodle shop asked why he was so happy today. He smiled and said, “Nothing much—just good luck.”
But he knew in his heart: this wasn’t luck. It was the only lesson he learned after losing hundreds of thousands—before greed consumed you, leave first.
Later, NIL fell from 0.15 back to 0.08, and the group chat turned into one long chorus of despair. Chen Lei didn’t say a word. He quietly transferred the remaining money out of the exchange.
Some money—once you’ve earned it, you should take it and leave.
#NIL #加密货币 #Contract liquidation