Inside CZ's Haven: Exploring the Life Behind the Most Powerful Figure in Crypto

*This article is from: * The New York Times

Compiled by｜Odaily Planet Daily (@OdailyChina); Translator｜Moni

Editor’s Note: From early radical bets on Bitcoin to founding the world’s largest cryptocurrency exchange; from Binance’s compliance troubles and U.S. judicial scrutiny to settling in the UAE after prison, navigating between politics, business, and crypto capital, CZ’s life trajectory encapsulates the dramatic changes in the crypto industry over the past decade.

This article is not just about the wealth story of a crypto billionaire. CZ repeatedly emphasizes that he is an "ordinary person" and "a rule-abiding individual," yet his experiences constantly create tension with this self-description: Binance’s early radical exploration of KYC and regulatory boundaries, the life-and-death struggle with FTX, the special treatment received in the UAE, and later business intersections with the Trump family and Emirati elites all point to the same question—where exactly are the boundaries between capital, regulation, and political power as the crypto industry gradually moves from the margins to the mainstream?

On a June morning, crypto mogul CZ arrived at the Ritz-Carlton in Abu Dhabi in a white Nissan SUV. CZ is the richest person in the crypto industry, with an estimated net worth of $114 billion. He lives in a villa near the Ritz-Carlton, which has 9 bedrooms, 4 bodyguards, a chef, and a yacht named "Da Moon," but he also likes to portray himself as an "ordinary person"—a phrase he often uses to describe himself.

Outside the Ritz-Carlton, CZ sat in the driver’s seat of the Nissan, with his iPhone mounted on the windshield, looking like the world’s richest Uber driver.

However, CZ is not an ordinary person.

Not long ago, the U.S. filed criminal charges against him for managing Binance. U.S. court documents described Binance as a haven for Russian money launderers, Iran sanctions evaders, and "ISIS" terrorists. CZ pleaded guilty but preserved his wealth. After serving 4 months in prison, he returned to Abu Dhabi, still the largest shareholder of Binance and one of the most influential figures in the industry.

Now, at 49, CZ operates like a head of state, flying around Asia on a private jet, advising governments on cryptocurrency regulation. After visiting Islamabad or Manila, news often follows of Binance achieving new regulatory breakthroughs. At home, one of his two dogs is a Taigan, an elegant Central Asian breed often compared to an antelope, a gift from the President of Kyrgyzstan, with whom CZ went skiing in February, a president who is quite interested in cryptocurrency.

"He actually wanted to give me a tent, a full-sized tent," CZ said. "I said no to the tent, but later he insisted on giving me this dog."

Among CZ’s most influential allies is the ruling family of the United Arab Emirates, who hope to leverage CZ’s influence to build a tech powerhouse in the desert, and the Trump family.

Last year, Binance established a business relationship with World Liberty Financial, a crypto startup founded by President Trump and his three sons. Last year, World Liberty brought in $799 million for Trump—his most profitable single asset, more lucrative than his real estate portfolio or social media business.

In October last year, Trump pardoned CZ. Known in the industry as "CZ," he usually avoids reporters, but this year he has given multiple interviews, hoping to tell his career story at Binance in a more friendly manner.

CZ is tall and thin, with short hair, and unlike many of his crypto industry peers, he lacks the typical fraternity-like bravado. He comes across as polite and focused, but his range of interests is almost comically narrow. This year, he self-published a memoir titled "Freedom of Money," in which he recounts a private tour of the Louvre after hours, but found the experience dull, writing that the guide’s explanations were like "playing piano to a cow." For years, CZ’s true mission has been what scholars call "jurisdictional arbitrage"—constantly moving from one country to another in search of a sufficiently flexible legal framework to accommodate his risk appetite and growth ambitions. In Abu Dhabi, he may have found an ideal operational base.

As CZ drove into downtown Abu Dhabi, he chatted casually, occasionally stopping to ask his bodyguards for directions, passing a series of impressive mansions on his way to the presidential palace, whose striking white dome resembles the Taj Mahal.

CZ began to get excited.

During a visit to Abu Dhabi last year, Trump called Sheikh Mohammed bin Zayed Al Nahyan "a very powerful man" and "one of the few truly visionary people." Zach Witkoff, the son of a senior advisor to Trump, said more bluntly at a cryptocurrency conference in Dubai last May:

"We really need to take a page from His Highness and the UAE, they are an amazing example of how to lead a country through innovation while maintaining family values."

CZ has already been living in the future that these people desire—immersed in an elite circle where monarchs and billionaires coexist harmoniously. He left the Castle Watan after attending a private meeting at the nearby Mandarin Oriental Hotel in the UAE. Attendees included hedge fund founder Ray Dalio and Japanese billionaire Masayoshi Son.

At that time, CZ was sitting in the audience when he noticed someone bending down to speak to him, and that person was Sheikh Mohammed, who wanted to know how CZ had been doing lately and if he could offer any assistance.

"That’s the king," CZ said, "he’s right next to you."

CZ’s Life in Abu Dhabi, Early Experiences, Binance’s Rise, and Compliance Controversies

One day earlier this year, CZ was working in bed—due to chronic pain, he often lies on his back while discussing business—when suddenly the windows began to shake. He said he got up and went to the balcony, where he saw a trail of smoke in the sky.

CZ lives on Saadiyat Island in Abu Dhabi, a territory in the Persian Gulf facing Iran across the sea. At that time, Iran had just launched a missile towards the UAE, marking the beginning of a geopolitical crisis that would destabilize the region, but CZ was not particularly worried; he returned to bed to continue working.

"More people die in traffic accidents than from missiles," he said, "the protection here is very good."

Before settling in the UAE, CZ was born in China and moved to Canada with his family at the age of 12. After attending McGill University, he worked in various tech jobs, moving between New York, China, and Japan. In July 2013, during a poker game in Shanghai, a colleague suggested he look into "this new thing called Bitcoin," a borderless technology that perfectly matched CZ’s borderless lifestyle.

After months of research, CZ made a radical bet: he sold his family home—a three-bedroom apartment where he and his wife raised their two children in Shanghai—and invested all $900,000 from the sale into Bitcoin. It was a high-risk move, but CZ was not worried; he believed that even if Bitcoin crashed, he could easily find a high-paying job in traditional finance.

In the 2010s, the crypto industry rapidly developed, with hundreds of new tokens emerging, but the trading platforms for these tokens were chaotic and vulnerable to hacking. In July 2017, CZ founded Binance. Within months, Binance became the largest cryptocurrency exchange in the world.

Binance’s success is built on two key insights—

The first insight is that crypto investors, as a group, are almost addicted to risk; they are never satisfied with merely exchanging equivalent cryptocurrencies for dollars or yen. For years, Binance has operated a margin trading business: traders can borrow money to make high-risk, high-reward bets on the prices of Bitcoin and other popular tokens.

The second insight is simpler yet has far-reaching implications: many crypto investors do not want to disclose their identities, and Binance did not require them to do so.

In the first four years after its establishment, Binance allowed customers to open accounts without even providing the most basic KYC—"Know Your Customer" information that traditional businesses require to prevent financial crimes. Binance was not the only exchange offering such high-risk services, but CZ’s execution capabilities surpassed all competitors.

"There were many MySpaces in the exchange world, and he built Facebook," said Austin Campbell, founder of a crypto consulting firm.

However, what ultimately formed was an extremely profitable chaotic market: an unregulated investment product open to unregulated traders. As the market prospered, Binance took fees from each transaction, and according to the book "Freedom of Money," the company quickly achieved $1 billion in profits.

CZ also became a celebrity in the crypto industry, but even though he joined a small group of super-rich entrepreneurs with astonishing political influence, he has never been widely understood outside the industry. Whenever he recalls the most controversial moments, CZ describes himself as an observer—a crypto geek overwhelmed by success, a naive outsider who somehow became the supervillain in a Bond movie.

On a day at the end of June, CZ sat in his kitchen during an interview and said that during the explosive growth years of Binance, he never really thought about breaking the law. At that time, the company’s lax controls allowed a wave of criminals to launder money. "It was just because I lacked experience in that area," he said, "I’m a tech person."

But this image does not align with the evidence collected by U.S. prosecutors during their investigation of Binance. In court, prosecutors cited a warning CZ gave to his subordinates: "It’s better to ask for forgiveness after doing it than to ask for permission first." According to legal documents, CZ privately discussed how to cover up the fact that Binance was serving U.S. users, even though Binance had not obtained permission to operate in the U.S. In Abu Dhabi, CZ describes himself as a "rule-abiding person."

However, it is evident that during a crucial period—when the habits of a new generation of investors were forming and the rules themselves were quite lax—he made strategic choices to push the legal boundaries to the limit.

Binance Moves to UAE, CZ's Competition with FTX Founder Sam Bankman-Fried, and the FTX Collapse

In 2021, after years of moving around Asia, CZ arrived in the UAE. He had previously made a short stop in Japan but was unsuccessful; Singapore also did not become a landing spot due to difficulties in obtaining a work visa. Subsequently, CZ's friend Gabriel Abed suggested checking out Dubai. Abed, a businessman and former Barbados ambassador to the UAE, quickly showed CZ how the Emiratis treated the wealthy and powerful.

On a Saturday morning in October, CZ arrived in Dubai. A few hours later, a government official, Omar Sultan Al Olama, came to visit him and offered what is known as a "golden visa," which grants the holder a 10-year residency without the hassle of bureaucracy. A doctor was then called in to conduct a blood test that all visa holders must undergo. The application, which usually takes weeks to process, was approved for CZ in less than 12 hours, leaving a deep impression on him with such a warm welcome.

"On my fourth day in Dubai, I looked at two properties," he told me, "I bought the second one."

By the end of that year, Binance had signed a memorandum of understanding with the local government to jointly develop cryptocurrency operating regulations and sent three employees to assist in building the regulatory framework. A draft was completed in January 2022 and was officially signed into law a few weeks later.

"When you are the captain of a ship sailing north, the UAE wants you to join their ranks," Abed said. "They rallied around CZ from day one."

However, not everyone in the UAE receives such generous treatment, but for CZ, this was the beginning of a comfortable new life.

CZ's eldest child attends college in the U.S., while he and He Yi are raising a young family in the UAE. He Yi is CZ's partner, and after CZ was forced out of company operations, she became one of the two co-CEOs who took over his role.

CZ gradually entered an elite world composed of a billionaire social network, meeting a group of Emirati leaders interested in technology—he calls them "crypto sheikhs." Eventually, he connected with Sheikh Tahnoon bin Zayed Al Nahyan, the brother of the Emirati leader. Sheikh Tahnoon, a jiu-jitsu enthusiast, often hosts prominent figures from politics and business in his palace.

In the royal dinner circles, CZ is regarded as a VIP. "We would think, 'How should we arrange the seating?" he said, "Just sit anywhere, it’s fine."

During these early interactions, the sheikhs continuously promoted the UAE to CZ, asking how they could assist him. Soon, CZ began to advocate for the country’s advantages to a broader billionaire circle. He encouraged AI mogul and OpenAI founder Sam Altman to establish a business entity in the UAE, warning him that other countries would not be friendly. "You will encounter many regulatory issues," CZ told Altman over coffee.

CZ is no stranger to the dangers of emerging industries.

When he arrived in the UAE, he was in fierce competition with a young entrepreneur. This person was none other than SBF, the founder of the rival exchange FTX, whose parents are professors at Stanford Law School. In many ways, he was the complete opposite of CZ: SBF was more of an establishment insider, and his personal connections and proximity to American political elites paved the way for his rise to the top of the industry.

"He has some tricks that I don’t have," CZ wrote in his memoir, noting that SBF would poach Binance employees, offering them salaries three to five times higher than their previous ones. CZ also heard that SBF spread negative remarks about him in Washington.

In November 2022, a report by crypto media CoinDesk raised questions about FTX's financial stability. At that time, CZ was in Dubai, preparing to have drinks with Abed, and he decided to express his opinion on Twitter, issuing a brief and ruthless statement: selling $500 million worth of FTT.

Soon, this post triggered market panic, and anxious investors rushed to withdraw funds from FTX, but FTX did not have enough money; SBF had misappropriated $8 billion from customers and had no choice but to seek rescue. At that time, only one person in the entire crypto industry had the resources to save him. Two days after CZ's post, he announced the acquisition of FTX but withdrew from the deal a day later, further pushing FTX into crisis.

The entire process resembled a masterful corporate war—one observer called it a "bloody campaign."

Within six weeks, SBF was arrested in his Bahamian apartment and extradited to the U.S., where he was ultimately sentenced to 25 years in prison for fraud.

CZ said he never intended to destroy FTX.

CZ explained that he originally hoped to gradually sell off his FTT holdings over a few months. "I never intended to bring them down," CZ said, "We lost $500 million."

SBF, however, had a different view. "CZ played me," SBF said at the time, "and he played it beautifully."

CZ Chooses UAE as a Safe Haven, Experiences U.S. Judicial Investigation, Plea Agreement, and Four Months of Imprisonment

After living in Dubai for a few years, CZ moved to Abu Dhabi, a country that does not impose personal income tax and is considered very safe—especially as crypto investors from Europe and the U.S. began to become targets for kidnappers. However, for CZ, who had just seen his nemesis being pursued across borders, the UAE had another significant advantage: no extradition treaty with the U.S.

CZ recalled that around the end of 2022 or early 2023, a member of the Emirati royal family asked him during dinner if he wanted UAE citizenship, so he submitted some documents and then waited. Months later, a government envoy came to his home with a box containing passports for CZ and his family.

"The UAE will never extradite its citizens," CZ told me, "this is very important."

CZ indeed had reason to remain vigilant, as the noose around Binance was tightening. U.S. prosecutors were gathering evidence to prove that Binance's lax agreements allowed fraudsters, hackers, and sanction evaders to transfer funds. Private chat records obtained showed Binance employees discussing the exchange's suspicious clients with shocking candor.

CZ hired a team of lawyers to negotiate with the U.S. Department of Justice, and CZ's new passport gave him considerable leverage in the negotiations. After living in Dubai for a few years, he moved south to Abu Dhabi, closer to the political power center of the country. During the negotiations, CZ seriously considered his life as a fugitive; he had to limit his travel, but at least theoretically, he was safe in the UAE.

Ultimately, CZ's legal team reached an agreement with the U.S. government. CZ would admit to violating the Bank Secrecy Act—a money laundering regulation—and resign as CEO, while Binance would pay a $4.3 billion fine.

Despite the relatively favorable terms, CZ remained frustrated with his lawyers and felt he should not have been sentenced to prison.

"I went to jail because we operated a platform without proper KYC," CZ said, "You can even vote for the U.S. president without an ID. I don’t know how this system came to be. I think, given everything I’ve been through, someone should go to jail for this issue."

Nevertheless, for Binance, this was still an excellent outcome.

At the sentencing hearing in the spring of 2024, CZ delivered a statement of remorse: "I deeply regret my failures, and I am sorry."

Ultimately, the judge sentenced CZ to four months in prison, describing him as a family man and a generous person. As the court read the verdict, CZ's son, who was attending college, quietly clenched his fist in celebration. As a rare criminal with almost unlimited resources, CZ's situation allowed him to minimize suffering; he was assigned to the low-security Lompoc II prison in California, the same facility where SBF was later incarcerated. Before entering prison, CZ assembled a team of advisors to teach him the subtle rules of prison life.

One of them, Michael Santos, communicated with other inmates and asked them to help CZ familiarize himself with the prison environment.

"CZ, you are a people person who has managed thousands of employees," Santos told him, "You won’t lose those abilities just because you walk in here."

On the morning of May 30, 2024, CZ arrived at Lompoc, quickly joining a so-called "car"—an informal social group usually divided by ethnicity. Other Asian inmates ate with CZ and worked out with him during breaks, excited to be in the presence of a billionaire.

"Everyone would make way for him," said Lompoc inmate Jaydon Agon, "like a king walking down the aisle."

CZ formed a close relationship with a Vietnamese bank robber who had previously been an engineer, and they discussed bank heists in detail, which were not as meticulously planned as people imagine from movies like "Ocean's Eleven."

"He was very gentle," CZ said, "a super calm person who just walked in, asked for money, and left, and he successfully robbed 11 times."

This bank robber was one of the few inmates interested in the business world; he read Bloomberg and The Wall Street Journal and asked CZ about Elon Musk's exorbitant salary at Tesla. Other inmates also asked business-related questions, with one wanting to understand the mysteries of the crypto market.

"He would ask, 'So, why is Bitcoin going up?" CZ recalled, "I said, wow, I’m not really sure either."

CZ organized a study group in prison to track stock prices, with a TV in the prison fixed on CNBC, but not all of his information was accepted by others. In Lompoc, CZ found it difficult to make other inmates understand his deeply held belief: that the Binance case was essentially a victimless crime, "no fraud, nothing at all." When he explained the details, the responses were rather lukewarm.

"They would just say, 'Yeah, everyone says that.'" CZ recalled.

In August 2024, CZ left Lompoc, but due to immigration issues, he had to spend his last two weeks in a local jail, passing the time doing push-ups and sit-ups in his cell. On the day of his release, a guard escorted him outside where his mother, sister, and assistant were waiting. They drove him to a nearby airport, where he boarded a private jet to Abu Dhabi.

It took only 26 minutes from CZ's release from custody to the takeoff of his private jet.

CZ's Post-Prison Business Relations, World Liberty Financial, $200 Million Stablecoin Deal, and Trump Pardon Controversy

After his release, CZ returned to a world that was shifting in his favor, as a pro-cryptocurrency U.S. government was about to take office in Washington.

Shortly before the U.S. elections, Trump co-founded World Liberty Financial with real estate mogul Steve Witkoff, who was preparing to serve as the White House envoy to the Middle East. Soon, the newly empowered transactional diplomats from the U.S. began frequent trips to the UAE.

While cruising around the city, CZ stopped to point at the Abu Dhabi National Exhibition Centre (ADNEC Center), which had hosted a large gathering of cryptocurrency enthusiasts in December 2024.

"That's where I met Eric Trump," CZ said, recalling how a Trump supporter named David Bailey introduced him to Eric Trump, the second son of Trump and a World Liberty executive, during a casual conversation without any formal agenda.

"At that time, Eric Trump just said he was here to look at a real estate deal," CZ recounted, but their interests would soon intersect.

The UAE has been working hard to transition from an oil-based economy to an emerging tech powerhouse, a project led by Sheikh Tahnoun, who oversees the UAE's $1.5 trillion sovereign wealth fund.

Before his imprisonment, CZ had negotiated with a senior aide of Sheikh Tahnoun, Peng Xiao, to discuss selling Binance shares to the UAE—this would achieve the ultimate merger of his company with political protectors. Sheikh Tahnoun, who is rarely seen without dark glasses, also chairs the venture capital fund MGX, which focuses on artificial intelligence.

Earlier this year, MGX agreed to invest $2 billion in Binance. According to insiders, this deal valued Binance at $75 billion. MGX viewed Binance as the perfect bridge between cryptocurrency and artificial intelligence—a high-tech fund transfer service that could potentially allow automated AI "agents" to make payments on behalf of real people, with CZ expressing his desire to complete the transaction using Bitcoin.

However, the UAE was concerned about the volatility of Bitcoin prices complicating the transaction, preferring to use stablecoins for payment. What happened next is widely controversial—if the Democrats regain control of Congress in November, this could likely become the subject of a congressional investigation. According to MGX, the fund evaluated various stablecoins and ultimately chose USD1 issued by World Liberty due to its "business applicability." This was a shocking choice, as USD1 was completely unverified at the time, with no historical performance to reference. Last year, The Wall Street Journal reported that Binance had specifically requested MGX to use USD1 for payment, while CZ stated that this was a decision made by MGX itself.

"As long as the stablecoin has a good reputation and doesn't disappear overnight, I actually don't care much," CZ said. "There were no other considerations."

But all parties had reasons to involve World Liberty in the deal. Around the same time, the UAE was negotiating with the White House for permission to export advanced AI chips, and Binance had its own requests from the Trump administration.

In May 2025, Witkoff's son Zach announced the deal, thanking Binance and MGX "for their trust," while U.S. Congressional Democrats condemned the transaction as "stablecoin corruption."

Issuers like World Liberty make money by accepting cash deposits from cryptocurrency traders, providing them with stablecoins, and then investing those deposits for returns. With MGX and Binance's $2 billion infusion, World Liberty instantly became one of the largest stablecoin companies in the world, a significant boon for both the Trump and Witkoff families.

"This is clearly a blatant act of appeasement," said Connecticut Democratic Senator Richard Blumenthal, who has investigated CZ and Binance, calling it "unprecedented in the scope and scale of corruption."

CZ insists there was no wrongdoing and stated that he no longer holds USD1, having used it to invest in Bitcoin and other assets. "I assume President Trump has very good lawyers, and the arrangement of his son running the business while he himself serves as president is perfectly legal," CZ added.

CZ also hinted that some of the anger might stem from cultural differences, saying, "In Kazakhstan, we can eat horse meat." He explained, "In some other countries, we would say, 'What? That's crazy.'"

A business deal between the ruling families of two countries—couldn't that be a good thing? CZ used a medieval metaphor. "If you marry the daughter of one country to the prince of another country," he said, "they can maintain peace for 50 years."

Two weeks after the $2 billion deal was completed, the White House agreed to share chip supply channels, alleviating some concerns from U.S. national security officials. Last spring, Steve Witkoff accompanied Trump on a visit to Abu Dhabi, celebrating the agreement with the UAE at the Qasr Al Watan. According to an insider, Witkoff privately told an acquaintance that CZ should receive a pardon.

After pleading guilty, Binance's dormant U.S. operations lost their state operating licenses, and a pardon could help the company market itself to regulators. However, a White House spokeswoman stated that Witkoff was not involved in the pardon process.

CZ described the process cautiously, referring to it as a "black box" managed by several lawyers who would regularly report progress to him from Washington. CZ also revealed that sometimes, at social events, some dubious intermediaries would approach him, claiming that for the right price, they could arrange a meeting with Trump, but CZ ignored them.

"This has become a small industry, with some people wanting to make a profit from it," CZ said.

CZ began seriously considering a pardon in March 2025, after other crypto industry executives received leniency, and The Wall Street Journal reported that he was also seeking a pardon.

"I thought at the time, if the newspapers think I should apply for a pardon, then maybe I really should apply," he said.

But in reality, as early as December 2024, CZ's legal team had already collaborated with prominent pardon attorney Brett Tolman to explore the possibility of obtaining clemency. Ultimately, Binance paid $2.1 million to a lobbying firm run by Ches McDowell, who has close ties to Trump's sons. According to public filings, these services included "administrative relief," but a spokesperson for World Liberty stated that the company "had no involvement in any pardon decisions."

When the pardon news was announced last October, Zhao Changpeng had just arrived in Kyrgyzstan, preparing to meet with President Sadyr Japarov, who was interested in creating a digital currency pegged to the Kyrgyz national currency. While being received by the local government in the capital Bishkek, CZ posted a brief thank-you message on social media.

CZ's Life in Abu Dhabi Mansion, Wealth Perspective, Binance's Current Status, Changing Relations with the UAE, and Views on the "Simulated Universe Theory"

On a scorching summer morning this year, CZ drove into the driveway of his $5 million mansion, where he and He Yi hosted their visiting grandparents and siblings, greeted at the door by two dogs.

In addition to the Taigan, CZ also has a Belgian Malinois named Broccoli because he thinks the name sounds a bit like "blockchain." As he moved from room to room, he pointed to photos of young family members, with a grand beige piano in the center of the children's playroom surrounded by toys—this neglected state surprised the tuner who came to tune it.

It was a Steinway piano. "It's one of the more expensive ones," CZ said, "but I don't play it." In the home gym, he paused to do bench presses.

CZ's lifestyle is not like that of an ordinary billionaire.

Although Forbes estimates his wealth at over $100 billion, CZ insists the actual figure is much lower, around $10 billion to $30 billion, stating that he could comfortably live off a small portion of that—just $10 million would suffice. In cryptocurrency podcast shows, when people occasionally ask about CZ's house, he often mentions the leaking issue upstairs, saying he has never been able to fix it. Indeed, in the living room, he pointed to a damp, damaged spot on the floor and then up at the ceiling.

"It's right there," CZ said, "I don't know if you can see the color difference."

Indeed, by billionaire standards, CZ's mansion is quite modest, with a nearby house listed for $150 million, but it is difficult to connect his deliberately displayed humility with the world of power and privilege he is already part of.

CZ also has ambitions that challenge biological norms. Once, at a private dinner, CZ heard about an emerging field of biotechnology research and invested in a startup researching artificial wombs.

"They can take a sperm and an egg from a person," CZ recalled, "basically, you can have a child by yourself."

Since his release, CZ has been busy with multiple projects, including tech investments and traveling between countries as a sort of "crypto diplomat" to help promote the development of the crypto industry. In these countries, he is often treated like royalty.

"They always send someone to drive two cars right up to the plane to pick you up," CZ said, "and there will be a girl holding local delicacies, as if you have to take a bite."

CZ has downplayed his relationship with Binance, as the company's plea agreement prohibits him from "operating or managing" the business. He specifically expressed dissatisfaction with Binance's recent decision to sue The Wall Street Journal, which had reported on personnel turnover in Binance's compliance department. CZ described the lawsuit as "a huge waste of time, as even if Binance wins, it won't gain much." It is reported that Binance withdrew the lawsuit last month.

However, it is clear that Binance remains an important part of his life, with one of the co-CEOs taking over being He Yi, the mother of three young children. Two years ago, as a move towards a more traditional governance structure, Binance established a board of directors and appointed three allegedly independent trustees, one of whom also serves as chairman—Gab, who was the friend that initially invited CZ to the UAE. They once played jet skis together, and Gab gifted CZ a pair of orange high-top sneakers emblazoned with "TRUMP CRYPTO PRESIDENT."

Recently, Binance has faced new allegations of misconduct.

Last year, Binance fired or suspended four compliance officers after they reported that nearly $2 billion from customer accounts flowed to a group of entities linked to Iran—this may again involve the sanctions evasion issues that led the U.S. government to file criminal charges against Binance in 2023. Binance denied the findings of these employees' investigations and stated that no one was punished for raising related concerns.

However, the U.S. Department of Justice has not brought new charges, and there have been some cracks in the relationship between Binance and the UAE. In December last year, Binance obtained a license to operate in Abu Dhabi. Meanwhile, Abu Dhabi soon faced a barrage of Iranian missile attacks, and Binance's new regulatory head at the time called the company a model of "regulatory progress." However, by summer, two Binance employees were briefly detained in the UAE, as local police took this unusually tough action while investigating potential financial crimes related to the platform. These detentions left Binance's local employees feeling uneasy.

CZ stated that he sent a message to a contact in the UAE police and reached out to several subordinates of Sheikh Tahnoun. "I just said, 'Listen, let's find a way to prevent this from happening.'" CZ recalled, "It's not good for this country, and it's not good for us either." He insists that the UAE remains a friendly home for Binance. "No one is in danger," CZ said.

CZ possesses a confidence that comes from repeatedly emerging from crises; he is a thorough winner in an era that often rewards bold rule-breaking behavior.

In CZ's memoir, he devoted a page and a half to discussing his belief in the "simulation theory"—the idea that we might all be living in a reality imagined by some other existence. He encountered this concept early in his crypto career and now believes it can be mathematically established.

"In 20 years, we should be able to insert a stick into our heads and have a complete simulation like in The Matrix," CZ wrote. "Billions of people would do this. There will be billions of simulated worlds." This belief allows CZ to maintain a certain degree of detachment from the pressures of everyday life. He wrote: We might all be Super Mario, just running around in an artificially constructed landscape.

He tries to adhere to a simple motto: "It's just a game."