The life of a cryptocurrency enthusiast: You just entered university, full of curiosity. Legends of getting rich through crypto trading circulate in the dormitory. You opened an exchange account and invested the living expenses your parents gave you into a meme coin. Three days later, it doubled. You think you are a genius, destined for greatness. At 20, in your sophomore year, your account doubled again. You start skipping classes, staring at the candlestick charts all day, fantasizing about becoming the next Buffett. Suddenly, the market crashes, profits vanish, and the principal is lost. You uninstall the software. At 22, you graduate and get an ordinary job. The salary is not high, but enough to make a living. One day, a colleague talks about stocks; you feel an itch and download the trading software again. This time you learned your lesson and only buy Bitcoin for 'value investment.' You can't hold on and sell. The next day, it starts to skyrocket. At 25, you switch to a financial company, your salary increases, and your confidence returns. You delve into technical analysis, draw trend lines, watch MACD, and confidently declare, 'This time it's different.' As a result, a year-long bear market arrives, and your account is halved. You comfort yourself: it's just bad luck. At 28, you met a girl through a blind date. She asks you what hobbies you have, and you say, 'Researching investments.' She laughs, 'That's nice, you can handle the family finances in the future.' You feel a pang—your account is still in the red, but you can only nod. At 30, you get married. At the wedding, a friend asks, 'How's trading these days?' You chuckle awkwardly, 'It's okay; it's long-term investment.' In reality, your account is down 40%, and you dare not say it. At 32, your child is born. Everything costs money. You become anxious, telling yourself, 'I must make it back!' You leverage and go all in on a coin with 'insider information.' The next day, the exchange announces it will be delisted, and the coin you hold drops 30% every day. For the first time, you feel despair. At 50, your child is in college, and tuition is expensive. You look at your account, and the money you've saved over the years is just enough. You remember your dream from youth—'financial freedom.' Now you understand that freedom is not the number in your account, but not being enslaved by desire. In the last moment, you hear the bell of the exchange. On the screen, the meme coin you bought in your youth is still trading. And your account has long been cleared. In the crypto world, lowering your stakes is the first step to success. Life is like a candlestick chart, with ups and downs, but in the end, it all returns to calm.