I thought about it and wondered why the person I introduced to the cryptocurrency world in April 2017 couldn't weather this bear market. From our several conversations, I noticed some clues. That day, we were eating at West Lake Cultural Square. I mentioned to him a recent investment project I was working on: Bitcoin. It was worth about 9,000 yuan at the time. While waiting in line, I told him about it, but he said he didn't understand and suggested we talk about it after dinner. The sweet and sour pork ribs arrived, and I asked the price. He said a few dozen yuan, typical of Xinbailu restaurants—affordable and cheap. I took a bite; it was sweet and sour, indeed delicious. Just like my first encounter with Bitcoin—a delightful surprise. When the second dish, foil-wrapped sea bass, arrived, I had lost my appetite. I opened Huobi again; the price was 9,550 yuan. In less than half an hour, Bitcoin had risen again. I almost trembled as I picked up the sea bass with my chopsticks—it was so delicious! I mentioned Bitcoin again, saying it had risen another 500 yuan. He seemed to understand and asked me what it was. I wasn't as enthusiastic back then as I am now. I had just read a book called *Blockchain: Technology Driving Finance*, which was full of algorithms, timestamps, and other programmer stuff, and I could barely answer the questions. I just said, "This stuff can make money; you can invest a little." A month later, after much coaxing, he downloaded Huobi and bought some Bitcoin, but didn't know how to sell it, so he just left it there. Later, when he could buy Ethereum on Huobi, it rose to around 2300, and he bought about 20. Then, on September 4th, Ethereum suddenly plummeted to 900 yuan. He trades futures and is extremely sensitive to short-term fluctuations. But strangely, he didn't sell. Later I found out that he didn't know how to sell Ethereum. I guess that's what they mean by "fools have their luck." I realized that in those five months, he had barely learned about Bitcoin, didn't understand blockchain, and didn't even know how to sell Ethereum. Foolishly, yet incredibly lucky, he "survived" that storm. As everyone knows, the bull market lasted for three months, and he was completely captivated, addicted like a drug addict. When he came to Hangzhou again in October, we met at the Yintai Department Store in the west of the city. He asked me what else was worth investing in, and I said Bitcoin, it's only 30,000 yuan now, cheap! We both laughed heartily, filled with hope. During that time, I devoured books on economics, currency, philosophy of technology, and so on. I seemed to have a whole set of logic in my mind, and I firmly believed the future had arrived, just unevenly distributed. As for him, despite my repeated attempts to dissuade him, he still didn't bother to learn more. Like most people, he was having a blast trading cryptocurrencies, essentially swimming naked. But when the bull market came, everyone was a hero. He bought Ripple at 7 yuan, and a few weeks later it rose to 21 yuan, making him a profit of over 100,000 yuan—it was incredibly exciting. We even went to test drive a Tesla, and I always joked with him, "Next time you come, you can just pick up a car and take it back to Wenzhou." My unintentional remark painted a huge picture for him. So later I told Qiqi that this stuff could easily give a straight man an orgasm, though she probably didn't understand what I meant. But in February 2018, the price of cryptocurrencies started to plummet, the bear market arrived, and his dreams began to shatter. He bought HSR at over 90, and the next day it dropped to over 80. He panicked. The West Lake after a snowfall is breathtaking, but he had no interest in appreciating it. He was cursing, impatient, and constantly asking me what I thought of the current market. I remained silent. "Why don't you go read some books? I can buy some for you." He refused, and had no interest in reading. We walked a long way in the snow. I remained as innocent and happy as a child, kneading snowflakes into balls, throwing them into the air, and running away joyfully, full of confidence in the future. But he began to lose his way in the market crash. Last week, I saw news about Li Xiaolai and asked me what I thought. He plays the futures market; he's too good at swing trading, too good at understanding human greed, too good at using capital to fleece retail investors—in short, he's too smart. But in a bear market, his cleverness couldn't withstand the persistence of a fool. So, as you saw, he said: "There's nothing to miss about this circle; it's only been a little over a year." From hearing about it, to testing the waters, to going crazy, to getting lost, to disappointment, he finally collapsed. Meanwhile, I believed it was the most worthwhile investment of the next decade, and I even joined a blockchain company. He knew all about the infighting, gossip, arguments, market manipulation, big players, and swing trading in the crypto world, but he was completely clueless about blockchain technology and its underlying logic. Perhaps, from the moment I chose to read and learn, and he chose to borrow money to trade cryptocurrencies, our fates diverged, and we drifted further and further apart. Summer 2018.