猪头胖肥头大耳老登的铁板

"Late-night Art and Skill Memoirs - Working Hard to Support the Family"
I will study trading techniques and really make money. I will say goodbye to my past self, shake hands with my present self, and have fearless expectations and faith in my future self, because the meaning of my hard work is the meaning of my life, to make myself, the people who love me, and the people I love live a good life.
Whenever I feel confused about the stagnation of life, I will read my past diaries and feel them, because it can help me find the obsession, passion and motivation of the past, and it will not make me lose my original intention. Don't think that I am so proud now, because I have long passed the days of being spurned by many people and unable to sleep at night, because most people look down on me, just like someone commented on me and scolded me for making machines or something. If it were three years ago, it would really hurt me, because at that time I was full of positive hope for myself. Three years later, I have been polished to look down on this. This is the warning line in my heart. People can deceive themselves but not time. Time is the best teacher. Now I am immune to all poisons and I can play with myself without feeling heartache. I chose a job that many people despised for me in exchange for the life I want, so any backlash in the later period must be accepted in full. Now, I have survived the hard days, and everything is getting better and better. I also want to work hard to learn to trade coins and make money. I don’t want to live a marginal life. I don’t want to do a job that others look down on.
Alas, I said fate...

"Late-night Reflection: Missing the Opportunity of Wealth"
This is a very real thing. I had close contact with this in 2021, or I almost had contact with it. He really wanted to help me and take me out to play. I can recall it and confirm that he had no ill intentions. If I had not been so angry at the time and scolded him for killing pigs, I would have checked what he said on Baidu. I did not block him. I... Alas. Maybe, now I am really a rich woman, and I will not go into the sea of ​​debt and cannot turn back. I think about it at night and I can't sleep in a trance. Things are not people, too many regrets...
I have a big Zhihu account. In 2021, my boyfriend was defrauded and posted a message to expose it. A senior medical student added me. I was a sophomore that year. He told me that he didn’t know what cryptocurrency was. I said it was a scam. I scolded him, and then I wanted to save him. I thought he was scammed. I didn’t know what it was. I couldn’t understand what he posted. I didn’t know what BTC was at all. I thought at the time that he was either going to scam me or he was scammed by someone else. I never tried to understand what he said. I didn’t really come into contact with it until 2024. Now I think he should not be a liar and he wanted to help me. It was me who didn’t understand what it was, so I scolded him and blocked him. If I hadn't been so impulsive at the time, if I had been more curious, I would have had some money two years ago. But life is like this. I tossed and turned in bed today and couldn't sleep because I came in and lost money. It has been bothering me. Suddenly I remembered this incident two years ago. I may have had close contact with some very magical things, people or things, but in the end they all passed by in a hurry. Everything is fate, and no one can control it. Maybe, this is fate. There is nothing to regret. When regret has become the norm in life, there is nothing I particularly want to keep. I may be intoxicated with the extravagance and unwilling to sober myself up. I can't look back and face my past self. I just want to walk around casually. Anyway, I rarely walk the path that most people take. I will create miracles randomly. It's just that I can't help feeling sad when I think of the past. Once you have seen the sea, all other waters are just puddles. Once you have seen Mount Wushan, all other clouds are just mists.

Forget it—I'll find a man instead. Only when I find a man who truly dotes on me and loves me will it be truly worthwhile. Everything else is just empty. From now on, stop jumping around blindly and trading cryptocurrencies—you're just losing money. Go find yourself a partner in the crypto world.

They say the crypto “gray-hatted” guys are all very generous. I’ve decided to date one. Is anyone interested in me?

These insights I write only for myself. As milestones in trading, I’m technically not good, and I don’t plan to generate any attention on Binance or chase that kind of thing. I also don’t have the ability to “exploit” others—I’m just a newbie, and in this circle, I’m at the very bottom of the food chain. At most, sometimes I fantasize about being noticed by a big-shot in the crypto world.

If many years from now, or maybe just a few, I finally manage to rise up, I hope these memories will stay with me. I want them to tell me that no road in life is walked in vain—every step counts. I hope that through countless bouts of pain and failure, I’ll summarize lessons and experiences again and again, and countless times push myself to become a better person.

In the time ahead, besides waiting for market direction, I’m planning to give short-term trading strategies a try. If my experiments succeed, there’s a good chance I’ll be able to break even and hope everything will be fine. Keep going—cheer up!

Thinking back, when I joined in 24, I didn’t even understand leverage at all. The contracts were all taught to me step by step through screen recordings by other people. It was just like that elderly woman—I couldn’t even figure out where to open it, and I didn’t dare to click around randomly. I was just scared and not very sharp. I was afraid that if I clicked wrongly, the money would disappear on me. After they taught me, I followed them for a few days and made 1,000 dollars. That 1,000 dollars was 7,000 RMB—money I earned in just over a week. I just followed along while they tapped the account. When it was time to close the position, the other person would call me, and once I clicked to close, the money would come in. Was it really that easy? Just move your fingers casually and you get money. From then on, I was hooked.

After that, I never stopped trading contracts. If they didn’t take me along, I wouldn’t be willing to lose such an opportunity to make money. I almost everywhere tried to find someone to guide me, calling them “bro” and “dad,” constantly. I couldn’t play on my own, but I never wanted to miss the time to make money. If I delayed by a day, I’d earn less money. I’m obsessed with money—how could I tolerate this? Every day I was frantically searching for masters, but my luck only lasted for just over a week. Throughout all of 24, I lost 170,000.

It was all because I kept looking for masters and I still couldn’t play on my own—I relied entirely on other people’s guidance.

I went to learn on my own in the late part of 24. At the time, I was constantly getting liquidated due to how bad my luck was. Then I started studying myself. 25–26 was the period where I taught myself and tried to figure out my own strategies. I lost money during this time too, but I had no choice. In my end-of-year summary for 25, I encouraged myself: I’d already learned how to open positions on my own, how to build my own sense of the market, and how to learn adding to positions and hedging with a Martingale strategy.

In 26, the BTC short positions I had played against from 24 finally broke even. But in June, I didn’t hedge with the hedge trades—I couldn’t hold on and I lost 40,000 dollars. Then I continued to open new positions again. And these days, I ended up double-losing again. I often think about why my path is so slow. Others can learn within a month when they come in, but I took two years. I was even still exploring. Maybe I needed to spend even longer learning, to turn things around and become profitable.

I don’t know whether choosing to play this from the beginning was wrong. But I like making bets on things I can’t get. Like, if I were willing to stay unmarried and childless for life and play this, I’d be fine—except playing it often means having no money in hand. If I had children and a family, I wouldn’t be able to play anymore. Then I’d just choose not to have them—I want to play this. Maybe in the end, I’ll be able to come to terms with it and won’t regret it.

The losses at this point are already quite a lot. Even just single-coin Ethereum is down by four thousand. Even though I’m still holding on, the big BTC is also showing an unrealized loss of two thousand. This isn’t loss in just one account—I'm running multiple accounts at the same time. Using my own, my mom’s, and my sister’s ID cards to open them. And to have more positions, I even opened a copy-trading account so I could get more capacity to open trades, and that’s how I get the entry points to be so accurate.

I’ll see for now. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll cut two accounts—holding the other two for now. As for the rest, I’ll do short-term hedging. For now, that’s all I can do. Some losses still have to be recognized. In terms of the time horizon strategy, all my quantitative trading approach has turned out to be a complete waste—the profits I managed to earn have been spit out with interest. But honestly, my technical skills are really terrible. In my account, the copy-trading one only made about one thousand in a year. Now the profit is down to just one hundred dollars. If it goes up a bit more, it’ll turn into losses. And that was the profit I had from my 2025 full-year operations.

I can only wait and see how this plays out. If it keeps breaking upward, I’ll keep waiting for a moment of sharp drop, then choose to exit while taking some losses. For this account, I won’t open copy-trades again later. I plan to wait until the losses aren’t too much, then exit. I’ll see whether, after not opening trades for half a year, they can return any rebates. Otherwise, if there’s no rebate, I probably won’t be willing to keep operating.

I don’t know what the end of trading crypto is. There is definitely sadness. My skills are poor to begin with. Every time I flat out and cut small losses—saving a few tens, a few more—then it all gets wiped out immediately. I need to spend this time thinking about what this final outcome has actually brought me, and I must completely switch my trading strategy. I was doing extremely long-term trading, but I need to go in every day to open larger trades for short-term moves, and keep the account in cash when there’s no trade. When the market moves, then I open positions. I also need to think again about stop-loss rules. If you’re not very smart as an individual, the path you take can end up taking far more time than it does for others.

These three accounts are all mine. Next, there’s still a long road ahead. I’ll act as a knight myself, and put myself into it—I’ll have even more motivation to earn money. I want to have a romance with myself. Three years? These three accounts, I’ll earn you a million-dollar fortune. Please believe me—I’ll do it for you.

This is the last post related to you. I just cleared all the notes I posted a few days ago, and I’m posting something new: be happy every day.

I will forget you and start my life again. I’m 25. In the past, I’ve always worked hard to make money because, when you’re young, the first thing you have to get rid of is poverty. I come from the lower end of society. When I was young, I couldn’t choose whom to love—because even if I got married, I would only end up marrying someone from a similar background, and then having a child who would be as poor as we were. That would mean my child would inherit my life again as a “poor person.” I haven’t even begun the relationship and marriage that belong to me.

I’ve had someone calculate it for me. After 28, or even a bit later, it will be more suitable to have a destined, fated love. Before that, I will focus on making money.

I don’t want someone like you to influence my worldview about marriage and love. Because when I think of you, suddenly I feel that if I end up marrying someone like that, it would be really unlucky. I don’t want any one person to make me, in a real sense, feel disgust toward love, toward men. Time moves forward. People change too. In the future, I’ll meet more people. Even if I don’t meet someone who truly loves me well right now, it doesn’t mean I won’t have it in the future. Besides, I only make long-term investments in matters of the heart.

All the money I’m earning now is for my future marriage, family, and children.

I have good conditions, so the people I can meet will be higher quality. And there’s also the fate hidden in the unknown. A person’s fate isn’t limited to your twenties. Even if you meet the right person in your forties or fifties or sixties, that’s still possible. I will only choose what’s truly right for me. So no matter how late, I will spend time building myself and shaping the promising feelings in my life.

Until then, no matter how many people you meet or how many entanglements you have—no matter how you’ve been framed or harmed—no matter what—don’t give up the pursuit of beautiful emotions.

There’s always someone in this world who makes you look up in surprise. There’s always someone who understands you when you’re sad. There’s always someone who truly loves you and cares about you. That’s the realization I’ve gained growing up. Don’t, because of someone who hurt you and made you sad, simply strike it all down. But the other way around is also true: if they’re not a good person, you absolutely must not settle. Cut your losses in time.

At least in these past few years, I’ve been successful in my emotional life. I haven’t married. I know it’s not the right time yet.

In the end, I sincerely wish your family life will be happy and fulfilling. Truly, because I don’t hold any resentment toward you. My only request is to cut ties with me completely and cleanly. In my life, what I keep will only be love and care for me. Wishing you well.

Finally having your wish come true—I've always known you can see things, so I've kept posting here. Now, between you and me, everything is completely settled. From now on, I won't mention you again. The current name signature can only be changed after seven days. It's not that I won't change it; when the time comes and it's allowed, I'll change it back to what it was before.

You and I have known each other for only a month. There have only been a few hundred yuan in economic exchanges. I still haven't received the money. After we split and argued over a few hundred yuan, we already agreed to settle everything. I'll donate the money to Tencent Public Welfare. As for emotions—what it is like, you know best. If it isn't something you should have, and you didn't give what you were supposed to, you don't deserve the level of emotion you demand. You weren't sincere, yet you required me to be sincere to you. That's pure daydreaming.

Why must you disappear from my world? Because this is a stain on everyone's life. If you have a daughter, would you want her to encounter a man in his forties or fifties who doesn’t spend money on her—just buys her a bit to eat, pua’s her, tries to control her, and then still thinks he loves her? He describes it with things like good food and good drinks for her. Then when he finds out she doesn’t fawn over him, doesn’t flatter him, he gets furious and demands that every single thing he gave be taken back—down to even an exact cup of milk tea.

You know: the world is vast and full of all kinds of things. Such people and such matters do exist. But it's really unfortunate that this happened to a woman. We won’t talk about love or not. In the end, to be precisely calculated down to a cup of milk tea by a man—this, for a woman, is a stain on her life. I think it's about as good as it gets that in my lifetime I can encounter someone like you. And on top of that, he's a man who claims he has assets worth tens of millions. If, at the very least, you had said your monthly salary is only three or four thousand, and you have a wife and kids—then I wouldn’t have taken your 500-yuan snacks. At the very least, I would know that a significant part of your income is included in that.

You kept saying you have assets worth tens of millions—that you're a big deal among the people I know. Yet in a single month, you’re so stingy about spending on me, and you want too much. After we argued and broke up, you even counted every single snack expense. This is the demeanor of an old man with assets worth tens of millions.

I don’t want someone like this to appear in my life. It’s an abstract plot. I don’t want a man like this to cross my path in my life. When happy moments make me think back to the past—how a man treated me like that—it easily makes me lose the ability to tell the difference between emotion and sentiment. Emotion has the highest status; it’s never those insincere performances.

I've been playing online for years. Honestly, if it weren’t for how disgusting what you did is, I wouldn’t have exposed it, because I’m embarrassed too. After all, I got disgusted by a man in his forties or fifties. You let him soothe you and act nice, and then afterward he even took back the milk tea and the Kinder Surprise candy. Don’t I have any dignity?

Even a fifty-year-old aunt wouldn’t run into someone like you for real. A divorced-and-remarried woman with a kid wouldn’t either—people like that don’t come across someone who wants to take the food back. You’re a once-in-a-lifetime case. Otherwise, how could I have thought of you these past few days and felt like my whole life has been subjected to tremendous humiliation? I thought if I ever encountered something like you, I would just be stuck with it—but you and I are done. My snacks have been settled, and I donated the money to Tencent Charity. I never want to see you again. I didn’t expect you to be unwilling to let go. I’m really speechless.

Now when I open my phone and see that you’re still standing there, I get nauseous. For real. You probably think you’re very happy, like you succeeded in making me feel sick. Do you understand that you’re going to be something I post about for a long time? You and I have a month’s worth of chat logs—we’ll post them slowly, one by one. Don’t think that making me feel sick is your success. Getting cursed by me for a year is my success.

You still have one last chance: completely cut all ties with me. Don’t play those half-in, half-out little games. Otherwise I really will post about you for a long time—until I get bored of cursing you. Then you can say it’s over when I’m tired of it.

After the old guy realized that using money couldn’t hold me hostage, he stopped calling. He went quiet and mumbled that he was going offline. In reality, he didn’t want to cut ties cleanly—he just wanted to stay in my list. That old guy has a family and kids himself. He even plays around with the “little wife” routine and the whole “check a man for cheating” scheme. He used an alt account to lurk around me. Look at that—how adorable. He’s in his forties or fifties, wife and kids already taken care of, with elders to support and a child to raise, yet he still used a new account to test my loyalty.

The old guy originally wanted to use me to hold me hostage, trying to get me to bind myself to him in a relationship of unwavering devotion. He even said a bunch of lines that actors are supposed to say—his persona was the “emotionally devoted old guy,” and I was the “bad woman who betrayed his true feelings.” The old guy is in his forties or fifties; he felt he fell in love with me, and then I was fickle—so he turned resentful. He was so angry he couldn’t even control himself. I honestly just laughed. What a great performance.

Do you have love? Do you have feelings? With a deeply devoted persona like that, do you find it disgusting to act that way? He talks like he has assets in the tens of millions, but all he did was coax me with milk tea. He didn’t give me a single bit of money. Really—he spent nothing; all the money went to food I bought. Five hundred yuan, over a hundred on milk tea, and four hundred for snacks—specified items too. There was even one time he insisted I buy those Kinder “Fun Eggs” (the ones with surprises). I didn’t want to eat them. I wanted to save the money. I’m also someone who saves—like I didn’t want to buy milk tea, and I also didn’t want to buy the Kinder Fun Eggs. But he took it back from me using that as an excuse. I’ve got the chat records on my side. You guys have no idea how absurd this so-called old guy with “assets in the tens of millions” really is.

Once the food’s gone, there’s nothing left—only the empty boxes. The old guy was furious. He knew once it’s eaten, you can’t take it back. The milk tea and Kinder Fun Eggs that I didn’t even舍得 to drink/eat—he wanted to take them. Probably to give to his kids. Maybe he finally came to his senses: his kid still hadn’t eaten those Kinder Fun Eggs. Because of him, I’ll hate Kinder Fun Eggs for the rest of my life. What crappy eggs. Are they something I wanted to eat? You forced me to buy them. I only comforted him, and only then did he say you don’t need to buy it anymore. I finally made a bit of money. And then it all got taken away just because I didn’t舍得 eat it.

You old creep, this is my final warning. By midnight tonight, I need to check whether you deleted my accounts—both of them. If you haven’t, after midnight I’ll send the chat records between us. I don’t allow you to stay so disgusting in my life. You’re married and have kids—why don’t you know how to behave and act like a decent person? You still choose to cheat. You and I originally only had a淡淡的金钱交易 relationship, and that was it. You cheated physically and then you said you’re a man, you can’t control yourself. Even your mind has to cheat too—double the betrayal.

The most laughable part of “emotional cheating” is that you’re married with kids, yet you still insist you have feelings for me and that you’ve put so much time, effort, and care into me—what care, what love. Do you know what kind of wicked things he did? Do you know how disgusting he is?

We’ve known each other for a while. Every day he acts like he’s some sort of teacher, always showing off his achievements—then it’s “trading crypto,” “financial freedom,” and how comfortable his life is. And then the next sentence is always: “Look at this, look at that.” It’s so obvious he just wants my money. He pretends to be a teacher to “guide” me so he doesn’t have to spend. Nothing he did ever made money for me. Every day he’d just use more or less a dozen bucks’ worth of milk tea to coax me to be his dog for a day. If I was happy, he’d pressure me to buy things I didn’t even like. If we’d end up breaking up over it, he’d make me give the food back to him. I told him, “I’ll send you the snack container.” He got so mad and flustered.

Sorry, but the strangest part is that even the milk tea he gave me, he also asked me to get it back. Seriously—he asked for the milk tea back too. I have the chat records. He said the snacks couldn’t be returned because they were bought, the snack box wasn’t worth anything, and he thought I probably didn’t want to spend my money to buy milk tea, so he wanted the milk tea back.

Why would you treat me like this? When I confront him, he says it’s because love turns into hate. He thinks he’s in his forties or fifties, his “springtime” has arrived, and he thinks he’s still got it. But I left him. That made him feel like I shattered his dream. He felt deeply humiliated. He looked back and apparently besides the five hundred he spent in a single month, there wasn’t really anything he could show. He said he’d give me money. I said, “Bring out the bill. We’ll calculate it line by line.” He got furious again. He originally planned to use five hundred yuan to pressure me, thinking I’d apologize for that money—but he failed. He couldn’t control me with the money. He also didn’t want to cut ties completely; he still wanted some lingering connection. After he donated the money to Tencent Public Welfare, the arrogant attitude of demanding money from me disappeared.

Is that old guy who’s full of crap still pretending to be dead on your grandma’s list? You said something about me in the middle of the night yesterday—are you deaf? All day you just sit there pretending to be dead to fool who? Acting like you’re hard at labor right there.

Disgusting and annoying old men—at your age you’re disgusting to the point of it. Every time my mood isn’t good, I curse you so you get disgusted. Do you really think women are easy to bully? You cheated—why don’t you ask yourself? At your age, with a body that’s already in the “four or five decades” range and half of you practically in the ground, you still go looking for women. Did you forget your wife and kids? So you’re the modern-day Chen Shimei, huh? Your wife gave birth and raised children, yet at this age you’re still acting like you haven’t outgrown it, pining after romance?

In the afternoon I’m checking the list—if you’re still there acting like you’re giving birth to a child, I’ll keep talking about you!

I’m going out to play tomorrow. For now, I’ll spare you in the morning and afternoon. In the evening, when I get back, I’ll check that this old thing of yours is still stuck on my account, standing there like an idiot pretending not to understand—don’t say a thing. In the evening, I’ll open a different place for you to let you and me have a one-month filthy little history of us cheating on each other. I’ll record every day how you betray me. I’ve never seen such shameless trash. People have told you over and over—begging and pleading, pretending you can’t hear with your ears shut. If you don’t cut ties clean with me, I’m going to find you sickening—then none of us will be allowed to be at peace.

Didn’t I tell you? You’re as stinking as those American black weapons—so disgusting that the smell makes me nauseous from far away. And you linger around all day, not leaving, just because you don’t want to get away from me. I originally thought life was kind of boring, but now it’s finally interesting. I feel great for insulting you. I never cursed like this before—do you know why?

Others aren’t guilty of this, brother. They’re not as bad as you; I’ll cuss a few times and feel embarrassed, but you—this old hypocrite who’s over forty, fake and righteous to the core—I just can’t control myself. I’d love to curse you every single day. For a person who’s lived to forty or fifty to reach the level where everyone finds you this detestable… you could say you’ve practiced some kind of “Eighteen Brawling Techniques,” you know? An old geezer at Yue Buqun’s level.

Aren’t you disgusted with yourself, like a piece of dog-skin plaster—so clingy and so revolting? It’s just like those old ladies’ foot-binding cloths: foul and long-winded. Yesterday you said you’d come around after half a day, but today you’re still here with your shameless persistence, staying on someone else’s account. If your skin is that thick, do you really think you’re unbeatable? I’m going to deal with people like you.

We won’t even message you—just change your “personal signature” a few times a day, purely to annoy you. Not just here; starting tomorrow I’ll do it in other places too. When will you come over yourself and say that you’ll disappear from my life forever, and never be stuck on someone else’s account like a clingy snake again? I won’t post anymore. Otherwise, I’ve got message records too—I'll screenshot a few a day and send them one after another. I’ll do it to you for a whole year.

So what, you think that because you’re in your forties or fifties with half your life already in the ground, you can act however you like? You want to try being a piece of dog-skin plaster? You’re already old—learn to accept it. Your “second brother” can’t even get up anymore, yet you spend all day fantasizing about this and that. Be honest and do your job properly—take care of your wife and kids. They’ll thank you.

All day you’ve got flowers and greenery in your head, picking at this and flirting with that. At your age, still shameless and thick-skinned—who even likes you, this kind of person.

If you run into me, you’ve kicked a steel plate. I’ll make it so you have to deal with your cheating, your wild thoughts, your breaking of marital virtue, and your flirting. I’ll expose your hypocrisy and your sham of morality—and make sure your true nature, a beast in human skin, is seen.

It’s almost dawn, and you’re still lying there in someone else’s list—how can you have the nerve to do something like that? You promised to stay away, but you’re like dog-skin plaster: you make a small account disappear but don’t delete the main one. What are you waiting for—waiting for the New Year to wrap dumplings to eat?

Do you know how disgusting it feels every day when I open my phone and see you lying there? Even Yu Gong could move the mountains, but he couldn’t move you. Are you just petrified in my account and not coming out? Tell me—can you please stay away from other people? You deleted me, and I’ll add you back? I’m disgusted with you, and after that I’m just waiting for you to keep spying on me. You’re bored all day with nothing better to do.

I really, really hate you. Seriously—there was a moment when I thought, how on earth did someone like you even end up in this world? You’re in your forties or fifties; you’re not a three-year-old kid, and you’re not some hot-blooded young man. So it makes what you do seem really disgusting. You know it is.

Aren’t you the one who won’t leave my life? I told you—I made it so that you can never, ever leave. You refused to delete me no matter what. Under my humiliation, you only reluctantly used an alt account to delete me. Do you like me? If you don’t like me, why do you use an alt account to try to enter my life? Have I even followed you? I only know the information I’m supposed to know—like how old you are, like you have a wife and kids, like you………

Now when I post, it’s only so that you can disappear forever from my life. If you keep lingering and can’t let go, I’ll be disgusted. I even changed my bio. As long as you don’t get away from me, you’ll see the line that says “Old man is a troublemaker, causing harm.” I change it every day too. You disgust me. I donated money, and you went back on your word and kept trying to stay in my life. I can’t chase you off, no matter what I do. Then I’ll just curse you every day.

I have never hated someone like this—I never want them to have the slightest trace in my life. If you won’t agree, then we can only do it this way. I’ll hate you for a long time, and I might curse you for even longer. You brought it on yourself—you wouldn’t leave no matter how hard I tried to get rid of you. Disgusting.

Because we made promises to each other, I can’t share our chat history. Of course, I keep my promise too—so much so that no one will even know who you are. But as a textbook-level “bottom-of-the-barrel” old geezer in his forties and fifties, I’m 25, and it’s my first time meeting you. They say time grinds people into gentleness—but you still carry that original bad streak. You’re still like that even at your age, and I’m honestly shocked. Did your “evil magic” come from that “magic pill” or something?

Who else, like you, in your forties and fifties, has a family and doesn’t know how to avoid awkwardness? You make excessive demands to build an improper relationship. All day long you brag about what you bought and what you fed them—constantly hanging it on your mouth. You use good food and good drinks to parade yourself. Since you got married, I’ve even started to suspect whether you and your wife are doing an AA setup. People like you—cold-blooded, selfish, and hypocritical. If I married you, I’d get a divorce in minutes. Maybe your wife is more conservative, like from the 1970s or 80s. If it were us young people, we’d go right at you and fight it out. But even if I run into you now, I won’t hit you. Respect the elderly and cherish the young is a traditional virtue of the Chinese nation.

You’re already old—considering you’re old, I choose to donate money to end this. If you were in your twenties, I might have gone to war with you three hundred rounds. But since you’re old, even when you argue, you don’t have the same kind of charm. Even if I argue for a single sentence, I find it annoying. Still, I recorded my resentment toward you in writing. I’m afraid I’ll forget. I keep forgetting the pain of the past in moments of happiness. You deserve to be remembered. I thought about it for a long time—some day far from now, when I flip back through my life, I’ll see that there was once such an old man who appeared in my world.

When the chains of memory are unlocked, you’ll warn me: cherish your life, stay away from that bad old geezer.

You describe yourself as so remarkable that you’re beyond belief. You say your IQ is within the top one percent—meaning the other ninety-nine percent aren’t as good as you. But what did you do? You made me be a dog for a month, so how did you treat me well? For that month of being your “dog,” you spent five hundred yuan on me—still after I even counted in the snacks. You say you were bleeding your heart out, but you weren’t trying to win my heart at all—you just wanted to PUA me and keep me playing the “third party” role for you. In reality, you wanted me to give you my heart and soul so you could骗 me into opening up emotionally. I saw right through what kind of person you are. After that, I didn’t want to have anything more to do with you. Being normal friends is enough. You’re not good enough—you insisted on keeping me as your “third,” and distancing yourself is what ultimately breaks your “true feelings.”

I’m really drunk with it. In the end, you even said I should donate 200 yuan to Tencent Public Welfare. You said if I didn’t play the “third” role properly, you wouldn’t accompany me. I’m the bad guy, not worthy of your goodness. You made me donate money to do good and “redeem my sins.” Are you saying that if you want me to talk about just a few hundred yuan, you’d have me hated that much? That’s definitely got a reason.

You told me your assets were between one million and ten million. The chat records prove it again and again. Every day you painted a rosy picture about how you cared about me and how much you loved me. But in a month, when all the snacks and money you gave me were added up, it was only around five hundred yuan. And you kept making me lick you. If I didn’t, you’d accuse and blame me. The day I complimented you, you’d get happy. When I distanced myself, you’d start blaming me again. Do you have any real sincerity? You claim you’re a big shot with assets in the millions—“you’re the one who said it.” But the result is, whenever we fell out, you always mentioned how much you’d spent on me. For the whole month, you brought it up over and over—more than five hundred yuan total, mentioned many times—and you were too embarrassed to say the numbers directly. You used words like “good food and good drinks” instead. Your chat records precisely capture the four-character idioms—“good food and good drinks.” What did you actually feed me? What did you make me drink? Most important of all: you’re a man in your forties/fifties. You have a family and children. You don’t know how to keep your boundaries—how can you do this kind of thing? Are you not immoral?

If you don’t have money, then don’t spout nonsense about your assets being in the tens of millions. A “tens-of-millions” big shot loses their temper at the drop of a hat. Once they do, they start cursing and calling people ungrateful girls. They say the other person doesn’t love you and they don’t care about you. You say you gave the other person good food and drink, but it didn’t show that you mattered to her. How is that “good food and good drinks” you gave her? You made me be your little dog. Are you doing charity for free?

You really are at that age already. Thinking about it now, I’m even more confused about how someone like you ended up like this.

At the end, you still acted hypocritically and told me to donate money, telling me to be a good person… I donated, because I was really fed up with him. When he saw I donated, he felt embarrassed to keep bothering me, and I finally got some peace.

All day long you act like a teacher to others, treating yourself as if you were a local boss. At home you’re bullied by your wife, and in the crypto trading market you scrape by in the cracks, thinking you’re so badass—you’re like a Siberian wolf. Then suddenly you see me and realize I’m better than you, and your luck goes through the roof. You think you’ve found the perfect target to belittle, so you start bullying and degrading me. You hang yourself up on a tree and chirp and complain that I’m not good enough—you’re basically just chirping that I’m pathetic.

You’re the greatest, you’re the best—out in the rural fields, even that kind of toad croaks and croaks for you, like it’s praising you with nonstop acclaim. Who am I? Am I someone an old fellow like you can lay a claim to? The new-era youth won’t allow someone like you—a pigheaded know-it-all—to rush in and get all fired up to criticize me with your rambling.

Tonight, the moment I think of you, I feel like the whole world turns gray. How could you treat me like this?