In the crypto world for eight years, I have learned to keep my mouth shut and have also become a professional at blocking.

In the winter of 2019, I pulled my cousin into the group and sent him a three-page analysis report, highlighting in red: ETH dropped below $120, go all in with your eyes closed. He turned around and put everything on Dogecoin, reasoning: "It's cheap, might as well take a gamble?" Three months later, Dogecoin went to zero, and he cried to my mom to complain: saying that I didn't stop him. I became the public enemy in the family, and that year during the reunion dinner, no one passed me the chopsticks.

In April 2021, a former colleague shared her maternity leave payslip and privately asked me: Do you have a safe way to achieve an annualized return of 20%? I sent her the grayscale trust discount chart, along with an 8,000-word research analysis. She replied, "It's too long, I can't understand it." Two hours later, she went all in with leverage on SHIB. The next day, SHIB plummeted and she had to extend her maternity leave for another year. Her husband sent a voice message cursing at me: "You've corrupted my wife." I didn't wait for her to block me, I took the initiative—afraid to see "Are you there?" again, my heart might give out in advance.

The most heartbreaking thing is the apprentice I personally taught. Last June, he had 1800U left in his wallet, and I advised him: Treat this as a fund graveyard, and open at most 1% position. He did as told, and in a month it rolled to 7200U. On the 33rd day at 3 a.m., he sent me a voice message: Master, I understand now, I want to build my own community. I didn't reply. On the 35th day, he went all in on LUNA2.0 and after getting liquidated, he asked to borrow the principal from me. When I blocked him, my hands trembled more than when I closed the position. I deleted not just a contact, but also that part of myself from two years ago that believed in "teaching a man to fish."

In a bear market, I swallow my tongue. When I see someone sharing a triple return, I give a thumbs up. When I see someone's investment being halved again, I light a candle. If someone asks about the market trend in the square, I respond uniformly: I specialize in mysticism, ten yuan per divination. Do you call me a quack? That's fine—being a quack costs less than being a scapegoat.

Now my trading system only has two shortcut keys: Ctrl+S: Save trading log Ctrl+Shift+N: Batch pump blacklisting of signal groups The principal amount, whether 20,000 or 2,000,000, makes no difference; the rules are the money printer: Profit 10%, automatic withdrawal to buy rice and oil Stop loss 3%, forced shutdown, a black screen is more awakening than any motivational talk.

The crypto world graveyard is open 24 hours. To survive, first lock yourself with three locks: Lock your ears - block out "insider information".
Lock your eyes – ignore the "get rich quick screenshots"
Lock your fingers - Quit the impulse to "averaging down"
Only those who can stay are the living.
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