At three in the morning, the K-line chart suddenly spiked with a long shadow, more piercing than the cold scallion pancakes on my table. This is my eighth year doing crypto analysis, and the Nth time I’ve been 'backstabbed' by my former self during my rookie days.
You might not believe it when I say this, but I, who can now articulate risk points in the live broadcast room, used to be a 'gambler' who would even dare to manually turn off profit-taking reminders. Eight years ago, in a rented room in an urban village, with an air conditioner broken down to just a fan running, I stared at the fluctuating numbers on the screen and poured my entire fortune of 8000U into it.
Those seven days felt like walking on cotton, with the numbers jumping from 1800 to 2400. The sound of realizing a floating profit of 6000U was louder than the dance music from downstairs. A friend invited me to hot pot, but I kept my eyes glued to the screen: 'Wait until it hits 3000, then we will go eat 500 each for Japanese food.' Looking back now, the level of confidence I had at that time was comparable to a 'newbie blogger' who dares to teach others how to trade just after entering the market.
As a result, when the Federal Reserve announced an interest rate hike, the market gave me a lesson in 'reality education'. In half a day, the number dropped from 2400 to 1900. I stared at the numbers turning from green to red on the screen, and one thought remained in my mind: 'Mainstream assets will definitely rebound.' Holding onto this fantasy stubbornly, I found my account balance frozen at 3000U, realizing I couldn't even afford a hot fried rice.
Squatting on the cold floor of my rental apartment, chewing on a cold pancake, and with crumbs stuck in my throat that I couldn't cough out, I finally realized: in this market, no matter how strong the asset is, it can't withstand the little greed within human nature. Ironically, I've paid this tuition repeatedly — a digital collectible I bought for 15,000U rose to 32,000U, but I couldn't bear to sell it, and in the end, I had to cut losses; when trading mainstream assets in waves, I carelessly canceled my stop-loss and watched my asset halve.
After being beaten to a pulp, I finally turned my bloody lessons into useful insights. Today, I won't beat around the bush; I'll directly share the three iron rules that helped me survive. Whether you're a newcomer just entering the market or a veteran who has been trapped for half a year, I suggest jotting these down in a notebook.
First, diversifying your portfolio is not being conservative; it's leaving a way out for the future.
Now, my positions always follow the '354520 rule,' a sense of security that I forged with real money: 35% in a cold wallet for core assets, acting as a 'calming pill' through cycles, regardless of how crazily the market fluctuates, this part remains unaffected; 45% invested in mainstream assets verified by the market, resolutely avoiding air projects that can't even write a clear white paper; the remaining 20% is always left empty as emergency funds; no matter how tempting the market is, I will never exhaust my bullets all at once.
Remember, this market is most lacking in the regret of 'missing out on opportunities to get rich' and most in need of the rationality of 'keeping the green mountains intact.' Most who bet all their money on a gamble have become the 'nourishment' for the market.
Second, unrealized gains are just numbers; cashing out is real gold.
Last year, when mainstream assets rose from 1900 to 2500, I had an unrealized gain of 120,000U in my account and withdrew 42,000U that same day to deposit as a fixed term. Later, when the asset pulled back to 2100, someone next to me lamented about how much they 'lost out on,' but looking at the fixed deposit in my bank account while sipping milk tea felt sweet.
It's like buying vegetables at a market; until the vegetables are weighed and paid for, no matter how big the cabbage is, it isn't yours. The numbers flashing on the screen are borrowed from the market; only when they are transferred to your bank account and can buy you hot meals, do they truly belong to you. Don't believe the nonsense about 'having a grand vision'; cashing out is the survival strategy for retail investors.
Third, stop-loss is not admitting defeat; it's a timely 'brake' for safety.
I've now set strict rules for myself: if a single trade loses more than 2%, I exit immediately without a trace of hesitation; if the monthly asset drawdown exceeds 5%, I shut down the trading software and force myself to take a break. I once believed in 'mainstream assets resisting declines,' stubbornly holding onto losses, resulting in an additional loss of 3000U before I finally woke up.
Stop-loss is like the brake in a car; it seems useless most of the time but can save your life at a critical moment. Admitting that you made the wrong judgment is not embarrassing. It's much better than losing all your capital and only being able to curse the market's fairness in the comments section.
Recently, people keep asking me: 'Is it time to enter the market now? Which project can make me rich overnight?' In fact, this market never lacks miracles of overnight doubling; what it lacks is the clarity to remain cautious and not greedy after climbing back from losses.
