He lost more buying NFTs than he did trading stocks. The person who said that was Alex Fong, a Hong Kong actor who used to swim competitively and represented Hong Kong at the Olympics. On camera, he added that he still couldn’t bring himself to tell his family exactly how much he’d lost.
The fact that someone can rank the two losses tells you they really went in on both. The NFT losses were even worse. Much worse.
Mainland actor Zhu Rui’s story is more specific. After twenty years of acting, she’d saved 700,000 yuan and poured it all into the stock market. Her principal was gone. Not a cent left. She didn’t quit. She scraped together another 300,000 yuan to buy the dip, and got stuck again. Now she gets by on the 2,000 yuan her mother receives in pension each month. After the video went viral, someone in the comments posted a photo of her Beijing home with a courtyard and claimed her actual loss was around 280,000 yuan. She hasn’t responded, and the figures don’t match, so let’s leave it there for now. At any rate, she hasn’t come out to explain.
South Korea offered a different scene. On October 13, T1 mid laner Lee Sang-hyeok said on stream that he was stuck holding his stocks and had no choice but to hang on for now. He was thinking about stocks while selecting runes, and picked the wrong ones—in front of tens of thousands of viewers. That same day, the KOSPI fell more than five points, closing at 6,035. In the preceding half-month, the index had dropped from 6,814 to 5,554. Samsung Electronics fell 20%, and SK Hynix nearly 30%.
Lee Sang-hyeok has won the World Championship six times. Reaction speed, discipline, handling pressure—he’s among the best in the world at all of them, honed over more than a decade without a single day off. And yet the market still pinned him down.
A lot of people assume celebrities lose money because they get bad information, or simply don’t understand finance. That’s not really where things go wrong. The trap is in what they do. Just one thing: averaging down. The price falls, you can’t accept the loss, so you put in more money to lower your average cost. Then you realize there’s nothing beneath you. That’s how Zhu Rui’s 300,000 yuan went in. Not wanting to walk away after losing money is only human. But who ever said adding more money would get you back to even?
There’s another contrast that’s easy to miss. Alex Fong’s worst loss was in NFTs, not stocks. For someone who’d just been burned by NFTs, stocks actually seemed like the safer option. The order was reversed. That’s the most dangerous part. In the NFT pool, there are no daily price limits, no trading halts. Trades can still go through at three in the morning, and there’s no account manager who’ll call you then and tell you to step away, get some sleep, and look again in the morning.
Anyone who bought one of those profile pictures back in 2021 will understand as soon as they open their wallet and take a look. The image is still there. The value is gone. When you try to sell, you find your listing just sitting there with no takers. Not one person. Really, no one.
The more I think about it, the less these losses seem to have to do with whether someone is smart. What matters much more is whether there’s something that forces you to stop. The stock market has daily price limits, T+1 settlement, and risk alerts from brokers. These measures are clumsy—really clumsy—but when you’re thinking of putting in one more order in the middle of the night, with your finger already on the confirm button, they can actually stop you in your tracks. There’s none of that on-chain. Having the private key in your hands means nobody can stop you—and nobody will.
No one knows how many digits Alex Fong’s losses amounted to. His wife asks him about it at home every day, but she still hasn’t found out. That number may never come out.
$BTC $ETH $SOL
#NFT #明星炒股 #风险控制 #Bitcoin
The fact that someone can rank the two losses tells you they really went in on both. The NFT losses were even worse. Much worse.
Mainland actor Zhu Rui’s story is more specific. After twenty years of acting, she’d saved 700,000 yuan and poured it all into the stock market. Her principal was gone. Not a cent left. She didn’t quit. She scraped together another 300,000 yuan to buy the dip, and got stuck again. Now she gets by on the 2,000 yuan her mother receives in pension each month. After the video went viral, someone in the comments posted a photo of her Beijing home with a courtyard and claimed her actual loss was around 280,000 yuan. She hasn’t responded, and the figures don’t match, so let’s leave it there for now. At any rate, she hasn’t come out to explain.
South Korea offered a different scene. On October 13, T1 mid laner Lee Sang-hyeok said on stream that he was stuck holding his stocks and had no choice but to hang on for now. He was thinking about stocks while selecting runes, and picked the wrong ones—in front of tens of thousands of viewers. That same day, the KOSPI fell more than five points, closing at 6,035. In the preceding half-month, the index had dropped from 6,814 to 5,554. Samsung Electronics fell 20%, and SK Hynix nearly 30%.
Lee Sang-hyeok has won the World Championship six times. Reaction speed, discipline, handling pressure—he’s among the best in the world at all of them, honed over more than a decade without a single day off. And yet the market still pinned him down.
A lot of people assume celebrities lose money because they get bad information, or simply don’t understand finance. That’s not really where things go wrong. The trap is in what they do. Just one thing: averaging down. The price falls, you can’t accept the loss, so you put in more money to lower your average cost. Then you realize there’s nothing beneath you. That’s how Zhu Rui’s 300,000 yuan went in. Not wanting to walk away after losing money is only human. But who ever said adding more money would get you back to even?
There’s another contrast that’s easy to miss. Alex Fong’s worst loss was in NFTs, not stocks. For someone who’d just been burned by NFTs, stocks actually seemed like the safer option. The order was reversed. That’s the most dangerous part. In the NFT pool, there are no daily price limits, no trading halts. Trades can still go through at three in the morning, and there’s no account manager who’ll call you then and tell you to step away, get some sleep, and look again in the morning.
Anyone who bought one of those profile pictures back in 2021 will understand as soon as they open their wallet and take a look. The image is still there. The value is gone. When you try to sell, you find your listing just sitting there with no takers. Not one person. Really, no one.
The more I think about it, the less these losses seem to have to do with whether someone is smart. What matters much more is whether there’s something that forces you to stop. The stock market has daily price limits, T+1 settlement, and risk alerts from brokers. These measures are clumsy—really clumsy—but when you’re thinking of putting in one more order in the middle of the night, with your finger already on the confirm button, they can actually stop you in your tracks. There’s none of that on-chain. Having the private key in your hands means nobody can stop you—and nobody will.
No one knows how many digits Alex Fong’s losses amounted to. His wife asks him about it at home every day, but she still hasn’t found out. That number may never come out.
$BTC $ETH $SOL
#NFT #明星炒股 #风险控制 #Bitcoin