从财富比肩马斯克到被特朗普特赦，币安「赵长鹏」的彪悍人生 20251031【新闻大写】

U.S. President Donald Trump.

President Trump.

President Trump.

Has just issued a pardon—

A presidential pardon for the founder of a major company — a global crypto exchange.

One of the most influential figures in the crypto world—

Changpeng Zhao.

Changpeng Zhao.

CZ Zhao.

He had pleaded guilty to money-laundering related charges.

A case many say was over-prosecuted by the Biden administration—

Even the judge admitted as much.

October 22, 2025 — Washington, D.C., the White House.

Trump picked up his pen and signed a pardon that shocked the world.

The recipient: Binance founder Changpeng Zhao.

The Chinese-born billionaire who ruled the crypto universe—

Now stood in the global spotlight of politics.

When reporters asked why he pardoned Zhao,

Trump shrugged casually and said, “Many people told me he didn’t do anything wrong.”

“They said he was persecuted by Biden’s people — I pardoned him at the request of many good folks.”

A crypto entrepreneur once jailed for money-laundering—

Now turned into a ‘wronged hero’ pardoned by the U.S. President.

But the undercurrents of this story had begun months earlier.

Zhao was rumored to have lobbied the President privately — spending millions for a pardon.

Meanwhile, the Trump family’s crypto ventures were said to have ties to Binance Capital.

What happened at the White House was merely the final act of a long play.

How did Changpeng Zhao’s life lead up to such a high-voltage moment?

Let’s rewind the clock — back to 1989.

The summer of 1989 — gunfire and blood in Tiananmen changed countless Chinese lives.

At the time, 12-year-old Zhao only vaguely heard that “something big” happened in Beijing.

He never imagined fate was quietly setting him on the path of exile.

His father, Zhao Shikai, was a teacher in Lianyungang, Jiangsu Province—

Once labeled a “capitalist sympathizer” during the Cultural Revolution and sent to do hard labor.

Though cleared later, life was still harsh.

In the late 1970s, this intellectual finally saw a turning point.

In 1984, he was accepted for a PhD at the University of British Columbia and moved to Vancouver.

Seven-year-old “Little Zhao” could only watch his father leave for a distant land.

Five years later, in 1989, history sped up.

Amid the gunfire and blood at Tiananmen Square,

the Zhao family decided to leave China.

That winter, 12-year-old CZ, his mother, and sister boarded a flight to Canada.

At last, the family reunited in a foreign land.

Life in Canada was humble.

His father survived on scholarships as a broke grad student—

While his mother, once a teacher in China, became a garment factory worker in Vancouver.

Young CZ started helping with the family income early.

As a teen, he flipped burgers at McDonald’s and pulled night shifts at gas stations.

During his high school years in Vancouver—

His father, though poor, spent nearly $7,000 to buy him a 286 computer.

It was practically the family’s life savings.

To the young Zhao, that DOS machine was a treasure — he immersed himself in coding.

A spark for his tech passion was lit.

After high school, Zhao entered McGill University in Canada.

At first, he followed his father’s advice and majored in biology.

But the smell of formaldehyde and dissecting lab mice drove him crazy.

Soon he switched decisively to computer science.

In college, he lived like any regular student—

Studying, working part-time, repeating the cycle.

No garage startup, no early unicorn myth.

The turning point came from a book — Rich Dad Poor Dad.

Its ideas about how the rich and the working class think differently blew his mind.

He began to question his father’s traditional, rule-abiding path in life.

Maybe that’s when a restless seed was planted in his heart.

Eventually, he made a “rebellious” decision — to drop out.

In 2001, without a degree, Zhao left university.

He first joined the Tokyo Stock Exchange’s tech department—

Building software for electronic trade matching systems.

Later, he moved to Wall Street, joining Bloomberg’s Tradebook team—

Developing futures trading software for big investment banks.

By 2005, China’s economy was booming.

Waves of overseas graduates were returning home to start businesses.

Zhao, who had spent years abroad, decided to join that tide.

He quit his stable job at Bloomberg—

Packed his bags, and headed back to his long-lost homeland.

Determined to make his mark.

In Shanghai, he co-founded a startup called Fusion Systems with friends.

They built high-frequency trading systems for Wall Street firms entering China.

Soon, Zhao landed major clients like Goldman Sachs and Credit Suisse.

At just over 30, he stood at the intersection of traditional finance and IT in China.

He couldn’t have known then—

That a decade later, he would build a financial beast that would terrify regulators worldwide.

During his startup years in Shanghai—

China’s internet and tech scene was exploding.

Zhao witnessed the rise of Alibaba and Tencent.

But a single poker game would again change his fate.

In 2013, during a round of Texas Hold’em—

Crypto pioneer Bobby Lee told him about a strange new thing — Bitcoin.

Lee excitedly explained:

“Bitcoin is decentralized — no central bank, no borders.”

“It lets you transfer money globally, peer-to-peer.”

That pitch sparked Zhao’s deep curiosity.

Known for his speed and execution, Zhao didn’t hesitate.

While most people were still wondering if Bitcoin was a fad or a revolution—

He jumped in headfirst, all in.

His first bold move? Selling his house to buy crypto.

He owned a Shanghai apartment worth about $1 million.

In 2014, he sold it all — and converted everything into Bitcoin.

At the time, that decision looked outright insane.

After all, Bitcoin had just crashed for the first time—

Its price cut in half.

Yet he poured real money into Bitcoin — even betting his home on it.

If it were me, my whole family would’ve broken my legs.

But that gambler’s courage turned out to pay off big.

Years later, the Bitcoin he bought for about $1 million had skyrocketed nearly a hundredfold.

One wild bet — and the bicycle turned into a Porsche.

Alongside that all-in move—

Zhao also went full-time into the crypto industry.

He joined the well-known wallet platform,

Blockchain.com, as Head of Development.

Later, he briefly served as CTO at OKCoin Exchange.

All that experience lit a spark — the urge to build something of his own.

In early 2017, he made another bold, rebellious choice—

“I’m done working for others. Time to build my own empire.”

2017 — a year of madness and legend for the crypto world.

Bitcoin soared from under $1,000 to nearly $20,000 by year’s end.

Every day brought a new story — everyone wanted to get rich.

And in that frenzy, Binance was born.

In July 2017, Zhao founded Binance in Hong Kong.

He raised funds through an ICO — issuing the platform’s own token, BNB.

From day one, Zhao threw everything into making Binance stand out.

He understood geek culture and community growth.

In no time, he built a fiercely loyal user base.

Within six months, Binance grew at a pace few could imagine.

By January 2018, its daily trading volume hit $6 billion — an industry record.

The influx of users was so massive that servers crashed — forcing Binance to pause new sign-ups.

I still remember — people were scalping Binance accounts on resale sites.

Many paid high prices just to get a verified account.

In February 2018, Forbes even put Zhao on its cover—

Proclaiming him “The Crypto Billionaire.”

It had been less than eight months since Binance launched.

Zhao became a global name — his handle “CZ” spread everywhere.

The new crypto king had arrived.

The Forbes headline read: “The Secret Crypto Billionaire.”

It felt like a declaration — the king is dead, long live the king.

Well— maybe not that dramatic, forget I said that.

But it did announce the rise of a new financial order.

Traditional bankers barely knew where Binance was registered.

Yet this once-unknown exchange now ruled the global crypto market.

By 2021, during the crypto boom’s peak—

CZ’s aura was at its highest.

That year, Binance processed $34 trillion in trades.

Yes, you heard right — 34 trillion. It out-traded nearly every competitor.

In early 2022, Bloomberg estimated Zhao’s net worth at $96 billion—

Nearly rivaling Elon Musk’s at the time.

He became the richest person in crypto—

And one of the wealthiest Chinese in the world.

And it had all taken him less than five years.

Binance conquered markets worldwide—

But the country where it was born — China — wouldn’t remain his haven for long.

In early September 2017, Chinese regulators struck hard— banning ICOs outright.

They shut down domestic crypto exchanges.

Overnight, China’s once-booming crypto scene froze.

Major platforms either shut down or fled abroad.

Binance was only a few months old.

Though based in Hong Kong, most of its users were from mainland China.

The crackdown hit Binance like a tidal wave.

Nearly thirty years after fleeing China as a boy—

Zhao once again had to leave — this time for business, not politics.

On Sept 4 2017, China’s central bank and six agencies jointly declared ICOs illegal.

They ordered all domestic crypto exchanges to close.

Zhao reacted instantly — announcing Binance would comply and exit the China market.

He began moving servers and operations abroad.

Sure, Binance was in Hong Kong—

which still had nominal legal independence at the time.

But with heavy regulatory pressure and a Chinese-majority user base,

Zhao decided to look elsewhere.

Almost the same day the ban dropped, he planned a move to Japan.

Japan’s regulators were relatively open and offered crypto licenses.

Zhao rushed to Tokyo to set up a new office.

But Binance didn’t last long there either.

Japan’s FSA refused to grant them a license—

And by 2018 ordered Binance to stop operating.

Zhao and his team became digital nomads—

Packing up and leaving whenever regulation tightened.

Always heading for the next “friendly” jurisdiction.

In 2018, he looked to Malta—

Then branded as “Blockchain Island,” welcoming crypto firms.

Binance even announced it would base its headquarters there.

But EU pressure soon made Malta tighten its stance.

Binance quietly slipped away again.

Singapore became another stop — but licenses never came.

By late 2021, Binance withdrew from Singapore as well.

Since China’s 2017 ban, Zhao and Binance had roamed the globe.

Yet the crackdown hadn’t killed Binance—

If anything, it pushed it to become truly global.

With China’s major exchanges shut or restricted—

Binance seized the moment and absorbed their users.

Its wide token selection and slick UX won fans worldwide.

Its reputation spread fast.

Zhao kept dodging regulators—

While exploiting every loophole left in their wake.

This “dancing on the knife’s edge” strategy brought risk — but also dazzling success.

By the 2021 bull-market peak, half the world’s crypto trades went through Binance.

The firm made over $20 billion in annual revenue — and Zhao’s clout soared.

He began appearing at global conferences, speaking on blockchain’s future.

Meanwhile, Chinese tech apps abroad faced U.S. scrutiny.

For Zhao, whose empire relied on global markets—

It was crucial to distance himself from his homeland.

On his blog, he wrote: “Culturally, Binance is not a Chinese company.”

“As for me — I’m just a Canadian.”

He was clearly trying to distance himself from China — to ease Western fears that Binance was backed by Chinese capital.

But on the other hand, Zhao couldn’t deny that Binance had thrived thanks to support from the Chinese community.

He had once even taken pride in his Chinese heritage.

A delicate balance formed between his identity and his business interests.

When needed, he was Canadian. When convenient, he was proudly Chinese.

That fluid identity captured the paradox of a new generation of global crypto entrepreneurs.

As Binance expanded worldwide, regulators’ suspicion and frustration grew too.

Early warning shots were manageable — but once Binance became a giant,

regulators could no longer look the other way.

The gray zone couldn’t last forever.

Governments around the world were preparing to strike. The U.K. was first in 2021.

In June that year, Britain’s Financial Conduct Authority—

Ruled that Binance was operating without authorization and ordered it to cease regulated activities.

Zhao had no choice but to scale back services in the U.K.

Soon after, Japan’s Financial Services Agency also warned Binance for offering services without approval.

Add to that Singapore and Malta’s regulatory U-turns—

Binance kept running into walls around the world.

Even Zhao’s homeland, Canada, lost patience.

In 2021, Ontario’s Securities Commission required all crypto exchanges to register.

Binance chose to pull out of Ontario entirely to avoid trouble.

But those were mere skirmishes — the real storm was coming from the United States.

U.S. regulators have zero tolerance for unregulated financial giants.

Especially one as massive — and murky — as Binance.

By 2018, the DOJ and IRS had already begun investigating Binance for money laundering and tax evasion.

The SEC also launched an inquiry into whether its 2017 ICO was an illegal securities sale.

Then came Reuters, dropping a bombshell report in mid-2022.

June 2022 — Reuters published explosive findings:

Between 2017 and 2021, Binance allegedly processed over $2.35 billion in illicit transactions.

Including hacked funds, fraud proceeds, and drug money.

Criminals could easily launder cash through Binance.

Reuters also revealed Binance’s anti–money laundering checks were practically nonexistent.

Dirty money could flow across its platform with ease.

The exposé sparked outrage and gave regulators plenty of ammunition.

Yet despite the uproar, Binance and Zhao weathered 2022 surprisingly well — seemingly unfazed.

Zhao claimed Binance had ample reserves to survive the crypto winter.

When markets crashed in spring 2022, Binance stayed afloat thanks to its deep pockets—

Even rescuing struggling competitors along the way.

But its dominance also raised alarm.

Many feared Binance posed systemic risk to the entire crypto market.

Analysts warned: if Binance went down overnight, the crypto world could collapse.

At the time, it handled roughly one-third of global spot trades and half of derivatives volume.

It was the “Lehman Brothers” of crypto — too big to fail.

If Binance crashed, the whole industry would burn.

Then, in late 2022, the crypto world did quake — when FTX collapsed.

And one of the men who lit the fuse — was CZ himself.

FTX, founded by Sam Bankman-Fried (known as SBF),

was once among the top three global exchanges — both rival and ally to Binance.

But in November 2022, the two fell out publicly.

CZ suddenly tweeted that Binance would dump its massive holdings of FTX’s FTT tokens.

Panic spread instantly — FTX users rushed to withdraw funds.

Within days, its liquidity dried up — and it went bankrupt.

For a moment, Zhao even played the “white knight,” offering to acquire FTX and save it.

But after seeing FTX’s books, he backed out — leaving the rival to implode.

SBF was arrested and charged with multiple counts of fraud.

Later, he accused CZ of badmouthing him across the Middle East, sabotaging his funding efforts.

Whatever the truth — CZ emerged the clear victor.

With FTX gone, Binance reigned supreme — uncontested.

But while Zhao basked in glory, the regulatory net was tightening fast.

The FTX debacle emboldened U.S. regulators — if Wall Street’s golden boy could fall,

then CZ could be next.

To Washington’s hawks, Binance had long been a thorn in the eye.

They were just waiting for the perfect moment.

Hey kid, heard you’ve made some pocket money lately.

Hand it over — or I’ll beat you senseless.

No way! I’ll tell the teacher!

Ah, capitalism really is brutal.

Come on, give us the cash — or we’ll keep coming for you tomorrow.

I didn’t do anything! Why should I pay you?

I’ll tell the teacher!

Don’t act innocent.

I’m the class monitor — I’ll tell the teacher

that you planned Pearl Harbor. She’ll believe me!

Why didn’t I think of that? I’ll start bullying the rich kids in my class too.

By 2023, Zhao finally faced his ultimate showdown.

America’s top three regulators and law enforcers came at him all at once.

For CZ, it was the darkest chapter of his life.

First to strike — the U.S. Commodity Futures Trading Commission, the CFTC.

On March 27, it filed a civil lawsuit in federal court in Illinois—

Accusing Binance and Zhao of illegally offering crypto derivatives

and willfully evading U.S. laws.

The complaint detailed how Binance coached American users to use VPNs—

To bypass geo-blocking and trade freely.

Even more shocking — internal chat logs were quoted in court.

The chief compliance officer allegedly admitted illegal money was flowing on the platform.

“I know some users come here just to do bad things,” he said.

Executives even acknowledged that Palestinian groups used Binance for transfers.

The details painted Binance as a haven for criminals.

The CFTC accused it of failing to enforce basic KYC and AML rules—

Allowing terrorists and drug traffickers to trade freely.

Its chairman blasted Binance for openly flouting U.S. law—

And demanded massive fines and trading bans.

Facing this fierce assault,

Zhao tried to stay calm online.

He insisted the allegations misunderstood the facts.

But one thing was clear — the wolves had arrived.

While the CFTC case was still burning,

The SEC followed right behind.

On June 5, the SEC filed another major lawsuit—

Accusing Binance and Zhao of illegally selling unregistered securities,

Running an unlicensed exchange, and misusing customer funds — 13 charges in total.

SEC Chairman Gary Gensler declared that Binance had “woven a web of deception.”

He accused Zhao of commingling customer funds with his own company accounts — misappropriating billions.

The statement sent shockwaves through the crypto world.

It painted CZ as another SBF — a fraudster hiding behind innovation.

Binance denied the charges, but some SEC evidence was damning.

Emails revealed—

Top Binance executives viewed Binance US as merely a prop to placate regulators.

The real operations remained offshore — far from U.S. jurisdiction.

The SEC even asked the court to freeze Binance US assets, fearing money could be moved.

After tense negotiations, Binance narrowly avoided a full U.S. shutdown.

But the damage was done — its reputation took a massive hit, and American users began to pull out.

Confidence in Binance’s stability began to waver.

To make matters worse, the Department of Justice’s criminal probe was closing in.

In fact, the DOJ had been quietly investigating Binance since 2018—

For alleged money laundering and violations of Iran sanctions.

Now, with CFTC and SEC lawsuits already filed, DOJ prosecutors were split.

Some wanted to immediately indict Zhao and Binance criminally.

Others feared that such a move could trigger a “Binance Lehman moment” — a total market collapse.

After all, if Binance fell, the entire crypto ecosystem might crumble overnight.

By late 2023, Binance’s troubles deepened.

User confidence eroded; trading volumes dropped.

Reports showed Binance’s global market share slipping from 50% in January to just 34% by October.

When the SEC filed its case in June, Bitcoin’s price plunged 6%.

Binance’s own token, BNB, tanked.

Binance survived — no liquidity crisis occurred—

But the calm felt like the silence before an avalanche.

By September and October, senior executives began resigning en masse—

Including the chief strategy officer and compliance head.

No one wanted to go down with the ship.

Zhao tried to steady morale online, insisting Binance’s reserves were sound.

But deep down, he surely sensed the storm was coming.

And in November — it finally hit.

The DOJ finalized its plan against Binance — an unprecedented crackdown.

November 21, 2023 — U.S. Federal Court, Seattle.

Zhao appeared in a navy-blue suit, somber, as he pled guilty before the judge.

He admitted to criminal violations of anti–money laundering laws and the Bank Secrecy Act.

In that moment, the once-mighty “Crypto King” bowed his head.

As part of his plea, Zhao agreed to step down as Binance CEO and pay massive fines.

The DOJ announced Binance and Zhao would jointly pay $4.3 billion in penalties—

To settle all charges and investigations.

It was one of the largest corporate fines in U.S. history involving personal liability.

Zhao spoke calmly in court, answering the judge’s questions—

But reporters noted his hands clenched slightly — struggling to stay composed.

Outside, he gave no interviews — only posting a single, cryptic line on Twitter:

“Today, I take responsibility for Binance’s past.”

And said nothing more.

CZ traded money and humility for his company’s survival.

A familiar script — like the banks that paid fines but escaped collapse.

But few executives had ever been held this personally accountable.

Still, Zhao’s freedom wasn’t fully guaranteed.

The plea deal meant sentencing was inevitable.

By April 2024, after months of review and hearings—

U.S. prosecutors urged the judge to give Zhao three years in prison.

They argued his actions undermined the global financial system.

Zhao’s lawyers fought back—

Noting that no other top executive had ever gone to jail for similar charges.

They pleaded for probation and community service instead of prison time.

Finally, in late April 2024, the federal judge handed down his decision.

Zhao was sentenced to four months in prison — far below the prosecution’s request.

The judge cited his cooperation, lack of prior offenses, and the case’s compliance-related nature.

The sentence was sharply reduced.

It meant CZ would serve only a short term.

By late April 2024, he reported to a federal detention facility.

Soon after, he was transferred to a California prison.

He served his four-month term and was released on September 27, 2024.

His release thrilled the crypto community.

But for Zhao, the felony conviction carried lasting consequences—

From visa restrictions to licensing barriers and business bans.

He stayed quiet — avoiding the spotlight.

Instead, he kept a low profile in Dubai and Abu Dhabi.

By late 2024, CZ reappeared at Dubai Blockchain Week—

Claiming to attend “in a personal capacity,” not as Binance’s representative.

He met with local leaders and investors.

His ambitions were clearly alive — just waiting for the right moment.

Then came Donald Trump — entering his story.

2024 — the U.S. presidential race turned fierce.

Under Democratic rule, crypto had faced constant crackdowns.

The industry overwhelmingly backed Republican candidate Donald Trump.

Trump vowed to “end Biden’s war on crypto.”

Promising friendlier regulations if elected.

Crypto moguls poured millions into his campaign.

Meanwhile, Zhao stayed out of sight, entangled by legal fallout—

But surely hoping the regulatory tide would turn.

And it did. In November 2024, Trump made his comeback victory.

For Zhao, it felt like the arrival of a potential savior.

Soon after Trump’s win, his family began moving into crypto ventures.

By January 2025, just after taking office—

The Trump administration sent clear pro-crypto signals.

They dismantled the DOJ’s crypto enforcement task force.

And floated plans for a national crypto reserve.

Trump appointed pro-crypto lawyer Paul Atkins as the new SEC Chair.

The SEC swiftly dropped parts of its Binance lawsuit.

The contrast with the previous administration was stark.

In short — the new government embraced crypto with open arms.

Ironically, this was the same Trump who once said in 2019:

“I’m not a fan of Bitcoin — it’s based on thin air.”

Now he’d become a coin issuer himself.

How poetic.

Just three days before inauguration, he launched his own crypto token — “TrumpCoin.”

Nine months later, he unveiled the WLF Project, issuing a dollar-backed stablecoin, USD1, and token WLFI.

Major exchanges like Binance immediately listed the Trump and WLFI tokens.

By late 2024 and early 2025, Trump’s two sons had also dived into crypto.

The Bitcoin mining company they co-founded went public — and its stock price soared.

The family was making money again — this time from crypto.

By the end of 2024, The Wall Street Journal reported—

That Trump family representatives had secretly met with Binance.

They reportedly discussed acquiring part of Binance US.

At the same time, rumors swirled that Zhao was quietly seeking a presidential pardon.

The news drew intense attention from the industry.

After the story broke, CZ quickly denied any talks about selling shares.

But then added — “Who wouldn’t welcome a pardon if they could get one?”

Which basically confirmed he was seeking it.

He slammed the report as politically motivated — an attack on Trump and on crypto.

Hinting that it came from “leftover forces” of Biden’s anti-crypto war.

Regardless of what he said, Zhao’s actions spoke louder.

In April 2025, he officially submitted a pardon request to the White House.

In May, he confirmed it publicly in a blog interview.

He said, “Since the media’s already talking, I might as well do it properly.”

Meanwhile, Binance ramped up its Washington lobbying to historic levels.

Before Zhao’s guilty plea in 2023—

Binance’s U.S. lobbying spend had already reached $1.2 million.

But after his conviction, that number briefly dropped to zero.

Once Trump took office, the lobbying machine roared back to life.

By 2025, Binance had already spent $860,000 — near record highs.

Much of that went to lobbyists and advisors close to the Trump camp.

For Zhao, winning a pardon justified any cost.

He poured more into political PR than ever before — this was his final gamble.

Freedom, after all, was worth any price.

In March 2025, a series of eyebrow-raising deals emerged—

Revealing deep financial ties between Binance and the Trump family.

Trump’s WLF company had just issued a new stablecoin — USD1.

And chose to launch it on Binance’s BNB Chain.

It was promoted to Binance’s 275 million users.

Soon after, Abu Dhabi’s sovereign wealth fund MGX—

Announced a $2 billion investment in Binance — using USD1 coins.

In other words, Binance accepted Trump’s family stablecoin as payment for equity.

That move instantly boosted demand and legitimacy for USD1.

Within days, its circulation surged to $2.1 billion.

Reports suggested the Trump family could net tens of millions in fees alone.

In short — they minted a coin out of thin air, then used it to buy into Binance.

Making huge profits — or as the Chinese saying goes, “catching a white wolf with empty hands.”

Effortless, but extremely lucrative.

The deal quickly alarmed Washington.

Senator Elizabeth Warren, a fierce critic, spoke out in May—

Warning that a foreign state-backed fund had just pledged

to use Trump’s stablecoin for a $2 billion transaction.

She blasted the so-called “GENIUS Act,” a new stablecoin bill—

Saying it would let the president’s family enrich themselves.

“This,” she said, “is blatant corruption — no senator should support it.”

But her protest didn’t stop Trump’s advance.

The administration kept rewarding the crypto industry.

In March, Trump pardoned three BitMEX co-founders convicted of AML violations.

In February, the DOJ dropped its fraud case against TRON founder Justin Sun.

Coincidentally, Sun had just invested $75 million into Trump’s WLF project—

And joined as an “advisor.” Soon after, the SEC paused its probe into his firms.

How convenient.

Trump also endorsed the Crypto Transparency Act and GENIUS Act—

And proposed building a national crypto reserve for the U.S.

By mid-2025, Binance and Trump’s interests were fully intertwined.

Zhao’s relentless lobbying for a pardon, combined with Trump’s pro-crypto stance,

Created a web of power and mutual benefit.

And after months of quiet negotiation, the finale arrived.

October 22, 2025—

President Trump signed an official pardon for Changpeng Zhao.

He granted full, unconditional clemency for violating anti–money laundering laws.

The White House press secretary, Caroline Levitt, announced:

“President Trump has exercised his constitutional power to pardon Mr. Zhao—

Who was unfairly prosecuted in Biden’s war on crypto.”

She declared, “That war is now over.”

By imperial decree — release Zhao Changpeng immediately!

“Mr. President…”

“Hmm?”

“Uh, Your Majesty, is that really how pardons work?”

“…”

“Don’t you think it’s… a bit too casual?”

“Watch your mouth, kid.”

“I’m the emperor now — I can write whatever I want.”

“My Chinese friends told me so — when you’re emperor, you do as you please.”

“Really, Your Majesty? Did they mention—”

“What if your party won’t let you amend the constitution?”

“They said — just get the People’s Congress to approve it.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll figure something out.”

“After all, the Republican Party, Communist Party — both have ‘Party’ in the name.”

“So having our own Congress should be easy.”

“Now go announce the decree — I’m tired.”

“I need a nap.”

From 1989 to 2025, Zhao Changpeng’s journey was a storm-tossed odyssey.

A Chinese boy, exiled by politics, who rebuilt his life abroad through technology and grit.

He made a fortune — but kept wandering, rootless.

Condemned at home as a financial outlaw—

Yet hailed abroad as a visionary pioneer.

He thrived in the gray zones—

Mastering the art of survival between power and principle.

In China, a fugitive son.

In America, a pawn — and a player — in power’s great game.

Morality is black and white — but reality, always gray.

Zhao Changpeng’s story is a lesson in surviving within that gray.

His life mirrors an age of contradictions—

An era where idealism and ambition dance in the shadows.

His story — a reflection of our times.

Technology races ahead, while institutions struggle to keep up.

The tug-of-war between pioneers and conservatives never ends.

China’s determination to ban Binance—

Ironically produced a Chinese entrepreneur who would shake the world.

America, champion of the rule of law, also blurred the lines— Trading justice for politics when it suited its interests.

As they say in crypto: Don’t laugh at the bag-holders — next time, it might be you.

Once, Zhao Changpeng was just another face in the crowd—

A young man flipping burgers to make ends meet.

But fate and choice intertwined—

Forging him into a legend.

The story could end here—

But for Zhao Changpeng, the script is only just beginning.