I lost $50… but I felt like a millionaire: 3 reasons why winning isn’t the point in this rabbit-shaped game

I used to think winning meant cash.

Then I played “Lucky Rabbit”—a game that mixes Chinese lunar symbolism with Brooklyn street beats—and lost $50 in one night. My roommate laughed. “You just paid for the vibe,” she said. And then it hit me: I didn’t win money.

I won stillness.

The game wasn’t rigged. It was designed like a ritual: every spin, a whisper of ginkgo music; every loss, a cloud drifting over our shared apartment window. The RNG proved it fair—but fairness wasn’t the point.

The point was how it felt when you paused.

When you let go.

In my culture, rabbits don’t bring luck—they carry grace. My mom taught me to bow before the wheel. My dad told me joy is loud when it’s quiet.

So I switched modes: low stakes, short sessions, no pressure. Played “Bunny Garden” at midnight with earbuds on and zero expectations. And guess what? The wins came anyway—not because of odds—but because I stopped chasing them.

That’s when I saw other players smiling too—posting screenshots with #RabbitRituals on Instagram Reels.

We weren’t playing to get rich.

We were playing to remember we’re already there.