The Shitcoin Legend
At three in the morning, Chen Hao stared at his phone screen, his eyes bloodshot.
He was an ordinary programmer, earning 15,000 yuan a month. Every day, he squeezed onto the subway to work, and when he got home at night, he’d collapse on the sofa and scroll through Binance Square. One day, he saw people discussing a coin called AMP. It was priced at just $0.000781—less than six fen per coin. The comments were full of ridicule. Everyone called it a shitcoin and said it was bound to go to zero.
But Chen Hao noticed one detail: AMP’s daily trading volume had suddenly multiplied several times over, and rumors had started circulating in the community about partnerships between the project team and payment companies. He was tempted, but hesitated for two whole days.
On the third night, he gritted his teeth and spent the 3,000 yuan left in his salary account on AMP. At the price then, he got about 3.8 million coins. As soon as he’d bought them, he regretted it. He felt like he’d lost his mind—3,000 yuan was enough to cover a month’s rent.
For the next week, AMP barely budged. It even dipped a little. Chen Hao opened the app once a day, and the more he looked, the more discouraged he felt. He started searching online for all kinds of negative news about AMP. The more he found, the more scared he became. He almost sold at a loss.
The turning point came on the eleventh day.
Chen Hao was in a meeting when his phone buzzed. He sneaked a glance: AMP was up 15 percent. He thought nothing of it, assuming it was just a normal fluctuation. Then it buzzed again that afternoon: up 30 percent. By the time he clocked off, he was up 50 percent.
That evening, AMP shot up in a huge green candle, climbing from 0.0007 to 0.00082. The 3.8 million coins Chen Hao held had gone from being worth 3,000 yuan to more than 4,000. His hands trembled with excitement.
But he didn’t sell.
He’d seen the big influencers on Binance Square start talking about AMP like crazy, saying the project had even bigger positive news yet to be announced. Chen Hao thought, I’ll wait a little longer. Maybe it’ll go up more.
And so he waited—for two months.
AMP climbed from 0.00082 all the way to 0.003, nearly quadrupling in value. Chen Hao’s 3,000 yuan had turned into 12,000. On the day it hit its peak, he decisively sold everything.
The moment the money hit his account, he sat in his rented apartment, staring blankly at his balance for ten minutes.
Twelve thousand yuan might not seem like much to a lot of people. But for Chen Hao, it was the first time in his life he’d made money by trusting his own judgment. Not through luck, and not by following the crowd, but by choosing to trust his own eyes when everyone else was laughing.
Later, when someone asked him for his secret, he said just one thing: “Shitcoins aren’t scary. What’s scary is being too afraid to even give them a try.”
Of course, he added one more thing: “Only invest what you can afford to lose.”
#加密货币 #土狗币 #AMP
At three in the morning, Chen Hao stared at his phone screen, his eyes bloodshot.
He was an ordinary programmer, earning 15,000 yuan a month. Every day, he squeezed onto the subway to work, and when he got home at night, he’d collapse on the sofa and scroll through Binance Square. One day, he saw people discussing a coin called AMP. It was priced at just $0.000781—less than six fen per coin. The comments were full of ridicule. Everyone called it a shitcoin and said it was bound to go to zero.
But Chen Hao noticed one detail: AMP’s daily trading volume had suddenly multiplied several times over, and rumors had started circulating in the community about partnerships between the project team and payment companies. He was tempted, but hesitated for two whole days.
On the third night, he gritted his teeth and spent the 3,000 yuan left in his salary account on AMP. At the price then, he got about 3.8 million coins. As soon as he’d bought them, he regretted it. He felt like he’d lost his mind—3,000 yuan was enough to cover a month’s rent.
For the next week, AMP barely budged. It even dipped a little. Chen Hao opened the app once a day, and the more he looked, the more discouraged he felt. He started searching online for all kinds of negative news about AMP. The more he found, the more scared he became. He almost sold at a loss.
The turning point came on the eleventh day.
Chen Hao was in a meeting when his phone buzzed. He sneaked a glance: AMP was up 15 percent. He thought nothing of it, assuming it was just a normal fluctuation. Then it buzzed again that afternoon: up 30 percent. By the time he clocked off, he was up 50 percent.
That evening, AMP shot up in a huge green candle, climbing from 0.0007 to 0.00082. The 3.8 million coins Chen Hao held had gone from being worth 3,000 yuan to more than 4,000. His hands trembled with excitement.
But he didn’t sell.
He’d seen the big influencers on Binance Square start talking about AMP like crazy, saying the project had even bigger positive news yet to be announced. Chen Hao thought, I’ll wait a little longer. Maybe it’ll go up more.
And so he waited—for two months.
AMP climbed from 0.00082 all the way to 0.003, nearly quadrupling in value. Chen Hao’s 3,000 yuan had turned into 12,000. On the day it hit its peak, he decisively sold everything.
The moment the money hit his account, he sat in his rented apartment, staring blankly at his balance for ten minutes.
Twelve thousand yuan might not seem like much to a lot of people. But for Chen Hao, it was the first time in his life he’d made money by trusting his own judgment. Not through luck, and not by following the crowd, but by choosing to trust his own eyes when everyone else was laughing.
Later, when someone asked him for his secret, he said just one thing: “Shitcoins aren’t scary. What’s scary is being too afraid to even give them a try.”
Of course, he added one more thing: “Only invest what you can afford to lose.”
#加密货币 #土狗币 #AMP