$ASR $BTC

In the old house, where the beams creaked from time, lived a domovoi — the keeper of a rich treasure buried underground. The gold lay there in a heavy slumber as if calling to itself. But one day, a command came from the demonic warlord: to fly across three times nine lands and serve for many years. Commands are not discussed.

The domovoi was troubled. Leaving the treasure would mean it would be dug up. People are greedy for money: they sense it like a beast senses its prey. Hiring guards would ruin you. Building storage is a hassle. He thought for a long time and remembered the master of the house — a rare miser. He ate every other day, drank water, counted his small coins, slept on chests, and feared every extra breath.

The domovoi appeared to him and said: — Dear master, I am leaving for a long time. Take my treasures. Eat, drink, rejoice, spend without fear. And when you die — I will be your only heir.

He said this — and disappeared.

Years passed. The domovoi returned and saw: the miser was dead, lying on the chest with a key in his hand. He had starved to death — yet the gold was intact, not a single coin touched. The domovoi took the treasure and rejoiced: the best guard is the one who fears to spend.

Moral:

Holding without purpose is not an investment. When the owner of the coins fears both profit and loss, he simply preserves liquidity for others.