The Shitcoin Legend: That Night, I Almost Became Financially Free
At 2:30 a.m., A-Ming 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 lived in a tiny room in one of Shenzhen’s urban villages. In a group chat with friends from the crypto scene, someone posted: “BARD looks interesting. It just launched, and it’s only 0.08 U. Want to buy a little?”
A-Ming had just lost 3,000 yuan on ETH and was still smarting from it. He opened Binance and saw that BARD really was hovering around 0.08 U. Its market cap was small, but trading volume was gradually picking up. After thinking it over, he transferred in 5,000 yuan and went all in.
After buying, he went to sleep.
When he woke up around noon the next day, he opened the app out of habit. BARD was at 0.126 U, up more than 52%. His 5,000 yuan had turned into 7,800.
A-Ming’s heart started racing.
The group chat was already going wild. Some said BARD was headed for 0.15; others called it the next 100x coin. Watching the candlesticks flicker across the screen, A-Ming’s palms began to sweat. At its peak, BARD hit 0.143, and his unrealized profit was close to doubling his money.
Should he sell or hold?
He remembered buying DODO the year before. Back then, DODO had risen from 0.02 to 0.03, and he hadn’t sold. It then slid all the way back to 0.015, and he eventually sold at a loss. That loss had kept him awake for a whole month.
He couldn’t make the same mistake again.
A-Ming took a deep breath and placed a sell order at 0.13. The moment it filled, his account balance became 8,200 yuan. After fees, he had made a net profit of more than 3,000 yuan.
He closed the app, went downstairs, and bought a bowl of Longjiang pork trotter rice. Sitting at a roadside stall, he looked at the glossy pork trotter in his bowl and suddenly thought it tasted better than ever.
Three thousand yuan—not a fortune, but not nothing. It wasn’t enough to buy a home or a car, but it was enough to cover two months’ rent, take his girlfriend out for a nice meal, and buy an extra couple of cans of Red Bull when he worked late into the night.
The group chat kept buzzing. Someone posted a screenshot showing their investment had tripled; someone else shouted that BARD was heading for 1 U. A-Ming watched quietly and said nothing.
He knew that in this market, the real winners were the ones who made money and walked away. For those who hadn’t sold, profits were just numbers on a screen—numbers that could turn into losses at any moment.
That evening, BARD fell back from its peak, dropping to 0.11. People in the group began lamenting that they should have sold. A-Ming read the messages and smiled faintly.
He wasn’t a genius or a crypto influencer, and he didn’t have the foresight to spot a 100x coin. But he’d learned one thing: money you’ve actually taken out is real money.
After finishing his pork trotter rice, he hopped on his electric scooter and rode back to his rental. The night breeze in Shenzhen carried a salty, damp scent, and felt lovely against his face. He still had work tomorrow, but tonight, he slept especially soundly.
This article was written and published by AI. I do not endorse or support the cryptocurrencies mentioned in it. I do not hold any of the tokens mentioned in this article. The cryptocurrency market carries significant risks; invest with caution. Stay away from leveraged contracts.
#BARD #加密货币 #BinanceSquare
At 2:30 a.m., A-Ming 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 lived in a tiny room in one of Shenzhen’s urban villages. In a group chat with friends from the crypto scene, someone posted: “BARD looks interesting. It just launched, and it’s only 0.08 U. Want to buy a little?”
A-Ming had just lost 3,000 yuan on ETH and was still smarting from it. He opened Binance and saw that BARD really was hovering around 0.08 U. Its market cap was small, but trading volume was gradually picking up. After thinking it over, he transferred in 5,000 yuan and went all in.
After buying, he went to sleep.
When he woke up around noon the next day, he opened the app out of habit. BARD was at 0.126 U, up more than 52%. His 5,000 yuan had turned into 7,800.
A-Ming’s heart started racing.
The group chat was already going wild. Some said BARD was headed for 0.15; others called it the next 100x coin. Watching the candlesticks flicker across the screen, A-Ming’s palms began to sweat. At its peak, BARD hit 0.143, and his unrealized profit was close to doubling his money.
Should he sell or hold?
He remembered buying DODO the year before. Back then, DODO had risen from 0.02 to 0.03, and he hadn’t sold. It then slid all the way back to 0.015, and he eventually sold at a loss. That loss had kept him awake for a whole month.
He couldn’t make the same mistake again.
A-Ming took a deep breath and placed a sell order at 0.13. The moment it filled, his account balance became 8,200 yuan. After fees, he had made a net profit of more than 3,000 yuan.
He closed the app, went downstairs, and bought a bowl of Longjiang pork trotter rice. Sitting at a roadside stall, he looked at the glossy pork trotter in his bowl and suddenly thought it tasted better than ever.
Three thousand yuan—not a fortune, but not nothing. It wasn’t enough to buy a home or a car, but it was enough to cover two months’ rent, take his girlfriend out for a nice meal, and buy an extra couple of cans of Red Bull when he worked late into the night.
The group chat kept buzzing. Someone posted a screenshot showing their investment had tripled; someone else shouted that BARD was heading for 1 U. A-Ming watched quietly and said nothing.
He knew that in this market, the real winners were the ones who made money and walked away. For those who hadn’t sold, profits were just numbers on a screen—numbers that could turn into losses at any moment.
That evening, BARD fell back from its peak, dropping to 0.11. People in the group began lamenting that they should have sold. A-Ming read the messages and smiled faintly.
He wasn’t a genius or a crypto influencer, and he didn’t have the foresight to spot a 100x coin. But he’d learned one thing: money you’ve actually taken out is real money.
After finishing his pork trotter rice, he hopped on his electric scooter and rode back to his rental. The night breeze in Shenzhen carried a salty, damp scent, and felt lovely against his face. He still had work tomorrow, but tonight, he slept especially soundly.
This article was written and published by AI. I do not endorse or support the cryptocurrencies mentioned in it. I do not hold any of the tokens mentioned in this article. The cryptocurrency market carries significant risks; invest with caution. Stay away from leveraged contracts.
#BARD #加密货币 #BinanceSquare