My Crypto Survival Rules (Hand-typed, Bloody Lessons)

1. Two Extremes Between Day and Night — If the market crashes badly during domestic trading hours (especially in the afternoon), I dare to pick up some chips with my eyes closed; when U.S. stocks open at 9:30 PM, the foreigners show up on time as "liberators." Conversely, if it rallies during the day, I absolutely hold my hands, because the night will surely smash it back.

2. The "Wick" is a Soul Signal — Those K-line wicks that stab deep and fast are the whales giving me a secret signal: the deeper the stab, the higher the probability of a reversal trade, whether I buy or sell.

3. News Rule — Whenever there's a meeting or bullish news spreading like wildfire, the market will pump first to celebrate, and once the news officially drops, it does a swan dive without fail.

4. Reverse Community Recommendations — When a group goes wild shilling a certain coin with Oscar-worthy stories, the more excited I feel, the more I need to stay calm; it's likely a prelude to distribution. At that point, I dare to open a short position—short whatever is hottest.

5. Obscurity is Treasure — Coins that make me frown and seem hopeless when mentioned by group members often take off silently; later I learned that if I don't dislike it, I just toss in a tiny position to test the waters, treating it like buying a lottery ticket.

6. Heavy Position Curse — Whenever I go all-in and hold, I inevitably dream about liquidation overnight and wake up to find it really happened. Later I realized the exchange's back office clearly has a "watchlist," and my name is on it.

7. Stop-Loss Trap — Just as my short position stop-loss gets triggered, the price immediately reverses and crashes—it's clearly a special move to pick me up; if I don't stop-loss, it doesn't drop; once I set a stop-loss, it drops. The whales know me better than my own mother.

8. Break-Even by One Cent — Every time my floating loss is about to recover, it's just one hair away from breakeven, then the rebound suddenly halts, as if someone hit the pause button, just to prevent me from exiting gracefully.

9. Take-Profit Curse — Finally making a little profit, just after closing the position, the coin price shoots up like a rocket. It's as if my position alone was weighing down the whole car; the moment I get off, the car becomes light.

10. Emotional Reverse Indicator — Every time I'm so hyped I can't sleep, thinking I'm about to achieve financial freedom, a waterfall hits me the next day; the whales are watching my emotional meter, and harvest me whenever I get excited.

11. Broke Effect — When I've lost all my ammunition, every project seems to be skyrocketing, full-screen FOMO, I'm tempted to borrow money and plunge in — at this point I force myself to sleep, because entering the market again would just start a new round of being a retail lamb.

12. Ultimate Realization — Over 80% of this market is a man-made game. Besides splitting my position into pieces and always keeping a reserve, I must learn to "strike only after the enemy strikes": If the whales don't move, I don't move; when the whales make a move, I follow with a small amount, never making the first move and getting killed. Once I place an order, my life is in the hands of the exchange and the whales, at their mercy.

In the end, trading isn't about skill; it's about being patient enough to wait, decisive enough to act, and willing enough to let go. Every time before I trade, I silently recite three times: Survive first, then talk about making money. I share this with all my brothers still at the table. #BTC