In the evening, the air conditioning unit buzzes amidst unstable voltage. She stands at the entrance holding a cardboard box, a half-used strawberry lip balm slides out from the bottom of the box—something she always kept in the pocket of her apron when they sold hand-brewed coffee in Lujiazui. The blue light from the computer slices his face into an EUR/USD candlestick chart as he just slammed the rent into a GBP leverage.

"You chose this." She stares at the liquidation warning, her voice like a melted trading order, "It's either the numbers or me." The box reveals exam preparation materials, the front page stuck with a ticket to the Bund Tunnel, the back inscribed with his handwriting: "2019, take Nian Nian to the London Eye."

The electronic lock clicks, sharper than the MT4 liquidation alarm. He watches the account balance drop to zero—that was the number of days they spent in the rental apartment. The keyboard is sticky with seaweed crumbs, and on the mouse pad, she drew a teddy bear hugging a "Take Profit" balloon.

Three years later, in the VIP room of the Futures Building. When he signs the crude oil options contract, the sound of the pen reminds him of her tearing the plastic covering of exam materials. The fake airline ticket for "Edinburgh" in his suit pocket is stained with sweat. Outside the window, the Huangpu River's water rises and falls with crude oil prices, the sunlight stings his eyes—like the bearish candlestick back then piercing the stop loss, freezing her ponytail into a guillotine.

His phone vibrates; in the multimedia message, he is in a suit with a teddy bear embroidered on his cuff. The text reads: "The ticket for the London Eye expired last year, you know." He pulls out a cigar, the flame illuminating the chipped coffee cup on the table, the inscription "Smooth Trading" has faded. The display case coming from Hong Kong is being adjusted for constant temperature, and he recalls the subtle whimper of the teddy bear in the cardboard box.

In the foreign exchange world, liquidation can be rebuilt, and leverage can be restarted. But that person who would switch to black coffee, that person who tossed the teddy bear and said, "One centimeter closer," remains forever at EUR/USD 1.1234—the closing price on the day they broke up, which is his only stop loss that he cannot close. #韩国加密政策 #加密市场反弹 #币安Alpha上新