Author: Big Cake Hunter

#凉兮

In the cryptocurrency world, which is filled with myths of sudden wealth and lessons learned through blood and tears, Liangxi (real name Geng Zhiyu) is undoubtedly one of the most controversial symbols. He emerged under the name 'Contract War God' and fell from grace as a 'mad gambler.' His life trajectory resembles an absurd black film, reflecting the greed and restlessness of the early chaotic days of the crypto world, while also exposing the distortion and loss of control of human nature under extreme wealth fluctuations. As a KOL who has experienced the industry's ups and downs, I attempt to unveil the truth behind the Liangxi myth from a critical perspective.

1. Myth of Sudden Wealth: The 'Genius' Bubble Under High Leverage

Liangxi's rise began with the '519 Incident' in 2020. At that time, at just 17 years old, he opened an account using his father's ID, shorted Bitcoin with a principal of 1,000 yuan and 100 times leverage, trading 1,454 times in a week, ultimately skyrocketing his assets to 40 million yuan, creating the myth of turning a thousand into tens of millions. This extreme strategy of high frequency and high leverage essentially turns contract trading into a 'gambling game'—his success was not due to technical analysis or market insight, but rather a survivor bias to extreme market fluctuations.

However, this model is destined to be unsustainable. During Bitcoin's rebound in 2021, Liangxi continued to bet on high leverage short positions, ultimately facing bankruptcy with debts exceeding ten million, and even sparked a farce of 'fatherly affection and filial piety' when he failed to extract funds from his father. Subsequently, he fell into a vicious cycle of 'borrowing - bankruptcy - re-borrowing,' and by 2023, his debts had reached 130 million. He was even sentenced to two years in prison for defrauding fans of 10,000 USDT. His 'genius' label is, in fact, a brief resonance of leverage and luck, rather than true investment wisdom.

2. Traffic Supremacy: The Carnival and Cost of Self-Destructive Marketing

Liangxi deeply understands the rules of traffic in the crypto world. He continuously creates hype: live-streaming a 'suicide' by drinking pesticide (later confirmed to be respiratory burns), claiming to 'take transgender medication,' and collaborating with Sun Yuchen to create a 'crypto spring festival' attracting tens of thousands to watch... These actions seem crazy but accurately tap into the public's curiosity, transforming personal tragedy into traffic fuel.

Ironically, his 'charitable persona' is also filled with contradictions—while donating 400,000 yuan to cancer patients, he was also legally sanctioned for the 'original flavor shoes' scam and fraud via his Weibo account. This dual image of being both good and evil is essentially a split personality under the traffic economy: goodwill in name, popularity in reality.

3. Psychological Collapse: The Ultimate Dilemma of Gambler Logic

The root of Liangxi's tragedy lies in the 'gambler's faith.' He once candidly stated, 'As long as you bet correctly once, you can make a comeback.' This logic drives him to continue leveraging with 2000 USDT as principal under 100 times leverage, making a fortune of 8 million USD in a single day in 2025, only to lose more than half the next day. His trading has departed from rationality, becoming pure dopamine stimulation.

Deeper psychological trauma stems from his upbringing: being beaten by his father, sent to a school for internet addiction, and breaking ties with his family, leading to his intertwined desire for control over money and insecurity, forming an obsession with 'self-validation.' He wrote in his narrative, 'I am 18, but I live like I am 40,' and it is this precociousness and loneliness that pushed him towards extreme trading and a performative personality.

4. Collective Reflection on the Liangxi Phenomenon

Liangxi's madness is not an isolated case, but a microcosm of the early cryptocurrency ecosystem. In an era lacking regulation and mature tools, contract trading became the only gambling table for retail investors to 'turn things around,' and Liangxi's 'success' precisely matches the public's fantasy of sudden wealth. However, his downfall ripped off the industry's fig leaf: the essence of high leverage is a capital meat grinder, and the traffic-centric value system has eroded the healthy development of the industry.

For ordinary investors, Liangxi's story serves as a warning bell—wealth accumulation requires time and rationality, not a gambler's all-in bet. Even if he 'becomes a deity' again in 2025, it will merely be a prelude to a new round of bubbles, ultimately unable to escape the fate of returning to zero.

When the myth comes to an end, what should we remember?

Liangxi's madness will eventually be diluted by time, but the lessons he leaves behind are worth remembering in the crypto world: true investment is a marathon, not a sprint; traffic can create deities but cannot reshape value. If the industry continues to indulge in 'Liangxi-style' gambling and hype, it will ultimately become a victim of a collective illusion.