The night of fifty-times leverage
At 3:17 a.m., Lin Yuan stared at the candlestick chart on his phone, his fingers trembling slightly.
He had just transferred all his life savings—120,000 USDT—into his futures account and opened a long position on BTC with 50x leverage. His entry price was $68,200, and the margin accounted for eight months of his salary.
"This time, it has to go up," he told himself.
Three days earlier, at the square, he’d seen a big V post saying BTC was about to break through 70,000, with a target of 85,000. The comments section was boiling, and everyone was sharing screenshots of their profits. Lin Yuan looked at the pitiful little positive returns in his own account, and his heart felt like it was being scratched by cats.
He thought of his coworker Lao Wang from last year. Wang had made 400,000 in contract trading, then bought a Tesla. Back then, Lin Yuan had laughed, thinking Wang was just lucky. Now he finally understood: luck is something you never get to keep unless you reach out and grab it.
In the first two hours after opening the position, BTC rose from 68,200 to 69,100. The floating profit showed over 800 U. Lin Yuan’s heartbeat sped up, and he couldn’t help smiling at the corners of his mouth. He opened the calculator. If it climbed to 72,000, his profit would be 120,000—exactly double.
"Add more," he gritted his teeth, and also put in the 30,000 yuan he had been saving to pay off his mortgage.
At 4 a.m., BTC suddenly started plunging. 68,000… 67,000… 66,000. Lin Yuan’s palms were drenched in sweat. He told himself this was a normal pullback, and that the big V had said to hold. But when the price fell to 65,000, his floating loss had already exceeded 40,000 U.
The liquidation price was right at 64,800.
He began frantically refreshing the page, silently chanting, "Go back up, go back up." But BTC was like a kite with the string cut, dropping all the way down. 64,900… 64,800.
A line of red text popped up on the screen: Your position has been forcibly liquidated.
120,000 USDT—gone to zero.
Lin Yuan set his phone down and stared at the ceiling. Outside, the sky was starting to lighten, and the smell of cooking oil from the breakfast stall downstairs drifted up. He remembered his mother calling yesterday, asking when he would send money home. He’d told her next month.
He opened the forum. The big V was still posting: "A pullback is the chance to get on the train. Stay firm and look bullish."
Lin Yuan turned off his phone and rolled over. Tomorrow, he decided, he would cancel his futures account. Not because he didn’t believe BTC would rise—but because he finally understood that what the 50x leverage bet wasn’t just the market. It was his own life.
And life can’t survive once hitting zero.
#合约爆仓 #加密货币故事 #杠杆风险
At 3:17 a.m., Lin Yuan stared at the candlestick chart on his phone, his fingers trembling slightly.
He had just transferred all his life savings—120,000 USDT—into his futures account and opened a long position on BTC with 50x leverage. His entry price was $68,200, and the margin accounted for eight months of his salary.
"This time, it has to go up," he told himself.
Three days earlier, at the square, he’d seen a big V post saying BTC was about to break through 70,000, with a target of 85,000. The comments section was boiling, and everyone was sharing screenshots of their profits. Lin Yuan looked at the pitiful little positive returns in his own account, and his heart felt like it was being scratched by cats.
He thought of his coworker Lao Wang from last year. Wang had made 400,000 in contract trading, then bought a Tesla. Back then, Lin Yuan had laughed, thinking Wang was just lucky. Now he finally understood: luck is something you never get to keep unless you reach out and grab it.
In the first two hours after opening the position, BTC rose from 68,200 to 69,100. The floating profit showed over 800 U. Lin Yuan’s heartbeat sped up, and he couldn’t help smiling at the corners of his mouth. He opened the calculator. If it climbed to 72,000, his profit would be 120,000—exactly double.
"Add more," he gritted his teeth, and also put in the 30,000 yuan he had been saving to pay off his mortgage.
At 4 a.m., BTC suddenly started plunging. 68,000… 67,000… 66,000. Lin Yuan’s palms were drenched in sweat. He told himself this was a normal pullback, and that the big V had said to hold. But when the price fell to 65,000, his floating loss had already exceeded 40,000 U.
The liquidation price was right at 64,800.
He began frantically refreshing the page, silently chanting, "Go back up, go back up." But BTC was like a kite with the string cut, dropping all the way down. 64,900… 64,800.
A line of red text popped up on the screen: Your position has been forcibly liquidated.
120,000 USDT—gone to zero.
Lin Yuan set his phone down and stared at the ceiling. Outside, the sky was starting to lighten, and the smell of cooking oil from the breakfast stall downstairs drifted up. He remembered his mother calling yesterday, asking when he would send money home. He’d told her next month.
He opened the forum. The big V was still posting: "A pullback is the chance to get on the train. Stay firm and look bullish."
Lin Yuan turned off his phone and rolled over. Tomorrow, he decided, he would cancel his futures account. Not because he didn’t believe BTC would rise—but because he finally understood that what the 50x leverage bet wasn’t just the market. It was his own life.
And life can’t survive once hitting zero.
#合约爆仓 #加密货币故事 #杠杆风险