The Shitcoin Legend
At three in the morning, Li Hao stared at his phone screen, his eyes bloodshot.
He’d only been casually scrolling through Binance Square, checking out newly listed small-cap coins. One token called BMT caught his eye. It was priced at just $0.039, with a pitifully small market cap, yet its 24-hour trading volume had suddenly multiplied several times over.
“Another shitcoin,” he muttered, about to swipe past it.
But his finger stopped. He remembered the story from last year that had left him so full of regret he couldn’t sleep. Back then, PEPE had just started climbing from a price of a few ten-thousandths of a dollar. He saw someone in a group chat calling it a buy, but hesitated for three days. By the time he finally made up his mind and jumped in, the price had already gone up a hundredfold. The two thousand yuan he invested vanished without even making a ripple. If he’d bought on the first day, that same two thousand yuan could have become two hundred thousand.
After that, he made himself a rule: whenever he spotted a shitcoin making an unusual move, he’d test the waters with two hundred yuan. If he lost it, no big deal. But what if he struck it lucky?
He tapped Buy. Two hundred USDT, market order, filled instantly.
The next six hours were the longest six hours of his life.
BMT’s price roller-coastered. First it fell to $0.022. Watching his account show an unrealized loss of 40%, his heart raced as he kept refreshing the page. He wanted to cut his losses, but couldn’t bear to let go of those two hundred yuan. He told himself it was only two hundred; if it all disappeared, so be it.
Then, out of nowhere, a wave of buying came in, and the price started climbing. $0.03, $0.035, $0.04. His heart was in his throat.
By the afternoon, BMT had climbed to $0.051, briefly touching $0.052. His two hundred yuan had turned into five hundred and twenty.
He stared at the number, his palms slick with sweat. Sell or hold?
Last time, his mistake had been getting too greedy, and he’d ended up trapped at the top. This time, he took a deep breath and tapped Sell All.
The moment the order filled, he let out a long breath. Five hundred and twenty yuan wasn’t much, but he’d won. Not because of his judgment, but because he’d stuck to his rules.
He withdrew his profits and opened Moments to post: “Made another couple hundred today. There’s still money to be made in shitcoins.”
The comments were all the same: “Bro, let me in on the next one.”
He smiled but didn’t reply. He knew he might not be so lucky next time. But at least in that moment, he’d walked away from the gambling table with a smile.
The hardest part of crypto has never been picking coins. It’s finding that balance between greed and fear that lets you sleep peacefully at night.
#BMT #土狗币 #Binance Square
At three in the morning, Li Hao stared at his phone screen, his eyes bloodshot.
He’d only been casually scrolling through Binance Square, checking out newly listed small-cap coins. One token called BMT caught his eye. It was priced at just $0.039, with a pitifully small market cap, yet its 24-hour trading volume had suddenly multiplied several times over.
“Another shitcoin,” he muttered, about to swipe past it.
But his finger stopped. He remembered the story from last year that had left him so full of regret he couldn’t sleep. Back then, PEPE had just started climbing from a price of a few ten-thousandths of a dollar. He saw someone in a group chat calling it a buy, but hesitated for three days. By the time he finally made up his mind and jumped in, the price had already gone up a hundredfold. The two thousand yuan he invested vanished without even making a ripple. If he’d bought on the first day, that same two thousand yuan could have become two hundred thousand.
After that, he made himself a rule: whenever he spotted a shitcoin making an unusual move, he’d test the waters with two hundred yuan. If he lost it, no big deal. But what if he struck it lucky?
He tapped Buy. Two hundred USDT, market order, filled instantly.
The next six hours were the longest six hours of his life.
BMT’s price roller-coastered. First it fell to $0.022. Watching his account show an unrealized loss of 40%, his heart raced as he kept refreshing the page. He wanted to cut his losses, but couldn’t bear to let go of those two hundred yuan. He told himself it was only two hundred; if it all disappeared, so be it.
Then, out of nowhere, a wave of buying came in, and the price started climbing. $0.03, $0.035, $0.04. His heart was in his throat.
By the afternoon, BMT had climbed to $0.051, briefly touching $0.052. His two hundred yuan had turned into five hundred and twenty.
He stared at the number, his palms slick with sweat. Sell or hold?
Last time, his mistake had been getting too greedy, and he’d ended up trapped at the top. This time, he took a deep breath and tapped Sell All.
The moment the order filled, he let out a long breath. Five hundred and twenty yuan wasn’t much, but he’d won. Not because of his judgment, but because he’d stuck to his rules.
He withdrew his profits and opened Moments to post: “Made another couple hundred today. There’s still money to be made in shitcoins.”
The comments were all the same: “Bro, let me in on the next one.”
He smiled but didn’t reply. He knew he might not be so lucky next time. But at least in that moment, he’d walked away from the gambling table with a smile.
The hardest part of crypto has never been picking coins. It’s finding that balance between greed and fear that lets you sleep peacefully at night.
#BMT #土狗币 #Binance Square