The workshop light flickered as old Mr. Chen showed his son, Kai, the worn tools. "We built this business with grit, son," he said, his eyes on the greasy floor. "But times change. This is the last batch."
Kai looked at the empty balance sheet. The factory was failing, and his father’s health was fading with it. The burden felt crushing.
One evening, Kai found his father staring at an old photo of them when Kai was a boy. "I wanted to leave you something more," his father whispered.
Kai pulled out his phone. "You did, Dad."
He showed him the Binance account. Years ago, Mr. Chen had skeptically bought a tiny fraction of Bitcoin, urging Kai to "hold onto it for the future." While the factory struggled, that small investment had grown, unseen, weathering market storms.
Kai pressed a button, liquidating just enough to cover the factory’s debt and the hospital bills.
"Grit built the past, Dad," Kai said, tears welling up. "But HODLing built our future."
His father’s face broke into a fragile smile. The factory stood, not because of tools, but because of a father’s foresight and a son's conviction in a decentralized dream.
