The keyboard clattered loudly, as if competing with the market trends—yet the account numbers dropped faster than anyone else, blinking red. The instant noodles at 3 AM have turned into a lump, the soup is too salty, making one cringe, just like a freshly cut order that goes down with a bitter taste. They say this is gambling, that it's unproductive, that people like us are daydreaming. But you see, without connections or a background, what other chances do we have to reach out and grab something, except for staring at this candlestick chart? Today I lost 200 again, which could buy several barbecues in reality. It's alright, tomorrow I'll turn on the computer and continue typing away. They say this is gambling, but I have no other path.