The Shitcoin Legend
At 3:30 in the morning, Chen Mo's phone screen was glowing, reflected in his bloodshot eyes.
He had been scrolling through Binance Square for four straight hours, his finger moving mechanically as he looked at posts showing off people's gains, feeling envious and restless. Three months ago, he had entered the market with 20,000 yuan. Now he had only 6,000 left. He'd been liquidated on futures twice and bought the top three times. Each time, he told himself, "Just give it one more chance."
Tonight was different.
In a discussion group for a newly launched meme coin, he saw a post from someone who said they'd gone all in on WENB, with a target of seven yuan. Chen Mo clicked in to take a look. WENB was only at 2.3 yuan then, and the comments were full of mockery. Everyone said it was a shitcoin that wouldn't last three days.
But one line in the post struck a chord with him: "You laugh at me for buying shitcoins; I laugh at you for not daring to dream."
Chen Mo hesitated for a full forty minutes. He split the 6,000 yuan he had left in his account into two parts: 3,000 yuan for BTC and 3,000 yuan for WENB. After buying BTC, he went to sleep with a clear conscience. After buying WENB, he tossed and turned, checking the price every five minutes.
When he woke up the next morning, WENB had fallen to 1.8 yuan.
His heart sank. His 3,000 yuan was now worth only 1,600. He stared at the candlestick chart, his finger hovering over the "Sell" button, trembling for a long time. In the end, he didn't press it. He remembered the words "not daring to dream," gritted his teeth, turned his phone face down on the bed, and forced himself to go to work.
For the next week, he hardly dared to open the app. Whenever his coworkers talked about crypto, he pretended not to care, though inside he was hurting.
On the evening of the eighth day, his phone started vibrating wildly.
WENB was up. Not just a little—it had shot straight from 1.9 yuan to 4.5. With trembling hands, he opened his account. His 1,600 yuan had become 2,700. He didn't sell, because he saw people on Square starting to discuss the project, and its buzz was surging.
On the tenth day, WENB broke through six yuan.
On the fifteenth day, seven yuan.
The person who had made the post was right.
Chen Mo's 3,000 yuan had become 21,000. He didn't sell right away. Instead, he withdrew his initial investment and held on to the remaining profit. He told himself this was a second chance from fate.
You can probably guess what happened next. WENB peaked at 7.29 yuan. The price of his current holdings is 7.07 yuan. Although it has pulled back a little from its high, he's still made almost six times his money.
Today, sitting at his desk, he watched WENB's candlestick chart, unable to keep a smile from creeping onto his face. A coworker beside him asked what he was smiling about. He said it was nothing, he just thought the sunshine was especially nice today.
Only he knew that this ray of sunshine was something he'd earned with 6,000 yuan in tuition and fifteen days of anguish.
The crypto world has never been short of legends. What's rare are the people who don't hit the sell button in their darkest hour.
#WENB #土狗币逆袭 #CryptoStories
At 3:30 in the morning, Chen Mo's phone screen was glowing, reflected in his bloodshot eyes.
He had been scrolling through Binance Square for four straight hours, his finger moving mechanically as he looked at posts showing off people's gains, feeling envious and restless. Three months ago, he had entered the market with 20,000 yuan. Now he had only 6,000 left. He'd been liquidated on futures twice and bought the top three times. Each time, he told himself, "Just give it one more chance."
Tonight was different.
In a discussion group for a newly launched meme coin, he saw a post from someone who said they'd gone all in on WENB, with a target of seven yuan. Chen Mo clicked in to take a look. WENB was only at 2.3 yuan then, and the comments were full of mockery. Everyone said it was a shitcoin that wouldn't last three days.
But one line in the post struck a chord with him: "You laugh at me for buying shitcoins; I laugh at you for not daring to dream."
Chen Mo hesitated for a full forty minutes. He split the 6,000 yuan he had left in his account into two parts: 3,000 yuan for BTC and 3,000 yuan for WENB. After buying BTC, he went to sleep with a clear conscience. After buying WENB, he tossed and turned, checking the price every five minutes.
When he woke up the next morning, WENB had fallen to 1.8 yuan.
His heart sank. His 3,000 yuan was now worth only 1,600. He stared at the candlestick chart, his finger hovering over the "Sell" button, trembling for a long time. In the end, he didn't press it. He remembered the words "not daring to dream," gritted his teeth, turned his phone face down on the bed, and forced himself to go to work.
For the next week, he hardly dared to open the app. Whenever his coworkers talked about crypto, he pretended not to care, though inside he was hurting.
On the evening of the eighth day, his phone started vibrating wildly.
WENB was up. Not just a little—it had shot straight from 1.9 yuan to 4.5. With trembling hands, he opened his account. His 1,600 yuan had become 2,700. He didn't sell, because he saw people on Square starting to discuss the project, and its buzz was surging.
On the tenth day, WENB broke through six yuan.
On the fifteenth day, seven yuan.
The person who had made the post was right.
Chen Mo's 3,000 yuan had become 21,000. He didn't sell right away. Instead, he withdrew his initial investment and held on to the remaining profit. He told himself this was a second chance from fate.
You can probably guess what happened next. WENB peaked at 7.29 yuan. The price of his current holdings is 7.07 yuan. Although it has pulled back a little from its high, he's still made almost six times his money.
Today, sitting at his desk, he watched WENB's candlestick chart, unable to keep a smile from creeping onto his face. A coworker beside him asked what he was smiling about. He said it was nothing, he just thought the sunshine was especially nice today.
Only he knew that this ray of sunshine was something he'd earned with 6,000 yuan in tuition and fifteen days of anguish.
The crypto world has never been short of legends. What's rare are the people who don't hit the sell button in their darkest hour.
#WENB #土狗币逆袭 #CryptoStories