老k加密日记

Stop believing in those "quantitative tools" and "insider groups"! My buddy turned 100,000 into 20 million trading U, and it took him three whole years. It wasn't because of some advanced techniques—it's all about the simplest "dumb methods" in the crypto space, yet 90% of people can't do it.
As a crypto analyst who has been watching the market for 8 years, I've already figured out its nature: the market always cycles, and the tricks to cut losses keep changing but remain the same. The ones who really make money are the "minority" who can understand the rhythm. Many people fail, not because their skills are lacking, but because they complicate simple things.

My account inexplicably increased by 320,000, and I stared at the screen while smoking half a pack of cigarettes—there was no ecstatic joy, but rather a desire to hand a bottle of beer to my past self three years ago and curse, "You finally made it, you little rascal."
After enduring eight springs and autumns in Hangzhou, the internet city, the ups and downs of the crypto market did not bring me luxury cars or mansions; instead, they gifted me a receding hairline, eye bags that rival national treasures, and a 'iron heart' that has been battered by liquidation countless times.
Back in 2016, I plunged in with an initial capital of 5,000. There were no so-called 'insider messages', and I dared not rely on luck; instead, I persevered with sheer 'stubbornness'—over four years, I managed to grow that amount into seven figures. During those days, every operation felt like walking on a tightrope, and I have experienced the taste of having my position reduced to just my underwear more than five times, but I have honed my resilience of 'getting up after falling' to be harder than rebar.

In 2018, with a million in capital, I rushed into the crypto market, thinking I was the chosen one—resulting in three years later, my account only had over 200,000 left. My wife uninstalled my trading software three times, saying if I continued to trade blindly, we would sleep in separate rooms.
During that time, I even avoided my family while scrolling on my phone. Whenever I looked at the K-line chart, I wanted to slap myself. But that stubbornness in me came up: why can others make money while I can only lose? So, I turned off my phone and hid in my study, going through all 127 trades from the past three years. The mistake notebook alone was filled with two volumes, and I marked all the foolish things like going all in and stubbornly resisting the trend with red warnings.

The phone vibrated at two in the morning, sharper than the drilling noise from downstairs. Opening the message bar, Sister Lin’s voice message, almost breaking the headphones with her crying tone, said: 'Old Chen, I’m going in! All my backup funds are in, and I’m losing everything...'
Sister Lin is a longtime friend of mine, managing administration and finance at a tech company. Recently, she was lured by the 'rich myths' in the circle and secretly invested 520,000 of the company's backup funds in the crypto market. As a result, she caught a market plunge, and ended up with only 3200 stablecoins in her account—this amount is not enough to cover even a small loss, and if the company checks the accounts, the consequences would be dire.

Holding less than 2000U, watching others in the circle flaunt their earnings makes you anxious, wanting to enter the market but afraid of losing it all in a day? Stop! Put away your impatience—this industry is never about gambling big; the smaller the capital, the more you need to focus on 'stability.' Those who have worked with me know that turning around small capital is not about luck.
Last year, I encountered a particularly typical fan who had just graduated and saved 1300U. He kept asking me, 'Can I go all in?' His voice was filled with anxiety, saying he was afraid that one operation would take him back to square one. I told him, 'Don't be greedy; stick to these few rules of mine, it's ten times more reliable than blindly following the crowd.'

With a principal of 20,000 entering the market, I was down to only 1,200 in three months. At three in the morning, staring at the numbers on the trading software, my fingers were shaking—not out of excitement, but because I wanted to uninstall the software and run away completely.
Looking back now, I'm glad I didn't click that uninstall button at the time. Even more so, I'm grateful that after I scolded myself awake, I did a thorough review of all the operation records, etching the 7 hard lessons into my bones. When my account jumped to 280,000 six months later, I was not surprised at all: the crypto world is never a gambling table, but a brutal arena of cognitive realization. Every penny you lose is tuition for not understanding enough.

A few days ago at a class reunion, my old class leader who runs a factory approached me with a glass in hand and, after circling around the topic three times, finally asked, 'Old Zhou, after so many years in the crypto world, have you really made any money?'
This is a question I have been asked no less than 100 times in my 8 years in the cryptocurrency world. In the past, I would honestly say 'it's okay', but now I just smile at the white hairs at his temples—I know that what he really wants to ask is not about the numbers, but 'how have you managed to survive in that ruthless industry and live more comfortably than us in the real business?'
The answer, without any pretense: during the turbulent market from 2021 to 2023, my account steadily reached an 8-digit figure. Now when I go to Shanghai for meetings, I don't mind staying in a 2000-a-night riverside hotel, I don't have to accompany clients for drinks until I vomit like my old class leader, nor do I worry about downstream clients defaulting on payments.

In these three years in the crypto community, whenever the message notification sounds, it's nine times out of ten a private message from a familiar person: 'Old K, when can my 10,000 yuan investment roll to 1 million?'
Six years ago, I might have sent a 'bitter smile' meme and talked some scene-setting words about MACD and Bollinger Bands. But now I can only type one line: very few rely on talent, and even fewer rely on insight; the vast majority fail because they didn't survive to the next big market move.
In the winter of 2019, I had 12800 yuan in my pocket, all invested in contracts. Thinking back on it now gives me chills: at that time, I could stay up until 3 AM staring at the candlestick chart, and when my eyes ached, I’d just put in two drops of eye drops; my heart could jump to my throat with every market fluctuation. One time, a mainstream coin suddenly spiked, and my long position instantly got liquidated. The reflection of my face on the phone screen turned pale as I stared at the message 'Account balance: 136.7 yuan', crouching in the hallway of my rented apartment while smoking half a pack of cigarettes.

The backend has piled up dozens of private messages, all asking: “Bro, I only have a few thousand yuan, can I make it in the crypto world?”
Every time I see this kind of question, I can't help but laugh—it's not that I think it's naive, but it reminds me of myself three years ago. At that time, my bank card balance was 7321 yuan, and I owed more than 3000 on my credit card. Staring blankly at the exchange interface, I was more panicked than any fan asking questions now.
But now I can confidently say: starting with a small amount of capital has never been a problem; it's the mindless recklessness and the inability to control oneself that are the real issues. Because I started from 1000U (at that time, I exchanged it for 7000 yuan in total), rolling it up to 1 million bit by bit. This is not some myth; it is the solid experience I accumulated after countless late nights and losing real money.

Every day in the background, there are brothers asking if they can enter the market with $1000. To be honest, I've discouraged more than 20 of them—it's not that the capital is too small, it's that I'm very clear about the common problem of beginners holding this little money: their minds are filled with 'tenfold returns in one go,' and the result is usually that they clean out their capital in just two weeks.
To be honest, I have gone through all your confusion. Back in 2018, I entered the market with $1200, just learned how to open positions and thought I was the chosen one, going all in with 20x leverage, and I didn't even understand the candlestick charts but dared to chase after rising and falling prices, with one thought in my mind: 'If I bet right this time, I can buy a new phone next month.' What was the result? Two weeks later, in the middle of the night, my account directly showed a 'liquidation' warning, the screen was bright and my hands were shaking—that was my living expenses saved up over three months.

I can guarantee that 90% of cryptocurrency beginners have fallen into the same trap: rushing in with a full position and thinking they are the chosen ones when they see gains on the first day, only to be pressed down by the market and rubbed in the dirt repeatedly, ultimately leaving with their capital reduced to nothing, while feeling wronged and suspecting they were 'targeted precisely by the big players.' Last week, my apprentice Xiaoxia, who I had been mentoring for half a year, recapped her experience with red eyes, and what she said was practically the standard answer for a beginner's crash.
Sister, I wish I had listened to you back then!' Xiaoxia said, trembling with her hands clutching the mug. 'With 400,000 in capital, not only did I go all in, but I also impulsively added leverage. Now there's less than 40,000 left in my account, which isn't even enough to buy my mom a gold bracelet...'

As an analyst who has crawled through the crypto market for six years, the most common question from fans is: 'Teacher, how can I avoid losses?' Every time I ask in return: 'Was your last liquidation because you couldn't bear to cut losses?' Nine out of ten people nod—this industry is not about IQ; it’s clearly about who can engrave 'discipline' into their bones!
Today, I’ll share with you three survival rules that I’ve learned through real money experience. Newcomers can avoid three years of detours after reading, and veterans will likely slap their thighs and say, 'I wish I had known this trick earlier!'
First, don't be a 'greedy ghost'; the profit you've taken is your own child.

The phone vibrated at 2 AM is more refreshing than the square dancing downstairs — it's a voice message from a fan in Shenzhen, trembling as if just out of a freezer: 'Bro! I went all-in with 8000 capital at over 10 times leverage, and when it dropped 3 points, my account went to zero? Is this reasonable!'
I rubbed my eyes and opened his trading records. Goodness, with 8000 capital, not a penny was left in the market, and stop-loss? What’s that? He didn't set it at all. I've encountered this scene hundreds of times a year; so many people treat 'going all-in' as a protective shield, not realizing it’s a double-edged sword without a blade, and if misused, it's quicker to perish than running naked in a bull market.

Eight years ago, when I stepped into the Shanghai subway station with my last five hundred yuan, I never imagined I could turn my life around through the crypto market—back then, I had just incurred hundreds of thousands in debt from a failed startup, and I even had to pool money with friends for rent, let alone talk about 'asset appreciation.' Today, let's skip the fluff, and I'll share with you the 'daily moving average trading method' that I painstakingly developed. This method doesn’t have all the flashy indicators, yet it helped me pay off my debts and save up an eight-digit fortune.
As a veteran who has been immersed in the market for eight years, the biggest misconception I want to debunk is: the crypto market is not a casino. The more you try to take shortcuts with 'mystical indicators,' the easier it is to be scammed. I have seen too many beginners armed with dozens of indicator combinations, staying up late staring at the 15-minute chart, only to lose their principal; on the other hand, my method, which only looks at the daily chart and fixates on a single moving average, has allowed me to stand firm in both bull and bear markets.

I have seen too many people rush into the cryptocurrency market with their principal, and most end up with a situation of 'making a noise when entering, leaving in silence.' However, Sister Lin, who had tea with me last week, turned a bad hand into a royal flush—three months ago, she was crying to me with only 600U left, saying that her initial capital of 20,000 had dwindled to just a pittance, and she had to be frugal even when buying milk powder for her child. Now, she is smiling and saying there are 150,000U lying in her account.
Don't think this is a fairy tale. I dare to be certain only after accompanying her to review the entire process: this is not just a stroke of luck, but the inevitable result after the realization of understanding. The cryptocurrency market is never short of myths of overnight surges; what is lacking is the execution ability to engrave the 'principles' into one's bones. Today, I will break down the core logic of Sister Lin's comeback for everyone; each point is a lesson she bought with real money.

While scrolling through the market at two in the morning, I received another private message: 'Teacher, with the market dropping like this, should we buy at the bottom?' I laughed—eight years ago, I was even more anxious, clutching 30,000 yuan for rent, staring at the plummeting market with trembling hands.
As an analyst who has immersed myself in the crypto market for 8 years, I have seen too many people rushing in shouting 'get rich overnight', and I have accompanied many old followers from tens of thousands to seven figures. Today, I won't serve you motivational quotes; instead, I will share my own real experience of going from not even being able to pay rent to slowly rolling to 80 million—there are three core anti-common sense iron rules that, if understood, can help you avoid five years of detours.

A few days ago, I received a message from a fan: “Teacher, I invested half a year’s salary to buy the dip, and now I’m down 20%. Should I average down?” When I saw the holding time, it happened to be the day when everyone was frantically spreading that “a certain key price is the iron bottom”—isn’t this just a typical scene of the ‘bottom guesser’ failing?
Having analyzed the crypto market for 8 years, the most surreal scene I’ve witnessed is: when the market drops, the entire internet is filled with ‘precision bottom-finding’ experts; as soon as retail investors follow suit, the market turns and breaks through the so-called ‘safety line’. Just talking about the second round of adjustments, from everyone shouting ‘a certain integer level is stable’ to ‘the next support must hold’, there are always people rushing in to be the ‘bag holder’, and what’s the result? The support level is as fragile as paper, and the trapped positions pile up higher than the mountains.

Let me tell you a true story: in 2018, I had 800 yuan that I saved after graduating, and I opened the cryptocurrency trading software on a second-hand computer in my rental apartment. After today's closing, I checked my account, and the market value stabilized at over 30 million.
Don't rush to say 'another show-off'—if I wanted to flaunt, I wouldn't need to keep screenshots of the losses in the trading records. On the day of the crash on March 12, 2020, one of the mainstream coins I held dropped 40% in half a day, and my account evaporated more than 2 million instantly. I stared at the K-line for 3 hours that day, not feeling sorry for the money, but suddenly realizing: this industry is not a casino at all; money earned by luck will eventually be lost back through understanding.

You might not believe it, but from having only 800U in my account to rolling it up to 6000U, I didn't rely on any insider information, nor did I suddenly connect with the trading flow. It was purely that I was scared after two liquidations—at the moment I lost 4000U, I was genuinely panicked, and I didn't even have the courage to open the trading software.
In the past, I was, to put it nicely, 'daring', and to put it harshly, just a brainless gambler. I always thought 'just do it' and couldn't help but go all in when the market fluctuated. When I made a profit, I felt like adding more to my position, and when I lost, I thought about 'recovering it'. Stop-loss? That's not a thing. I always felt the market was against me, and in the end, I was just ground into the dirt by the market every time.

In the air-conditioned room in July 2019, my eyes glued to the phone screen were hotter than the sun outside — the digits of my account balance were still jumping, with a principal of 300,000, just past 58 days, it had already surged to 3,890,000.
That night I paced back and forth in a rental room in the urban village, the tile floor creaked under my steps. I casually took a picture of a Bitcoin candlestick chart, red enough to burn through the screen, and captioned it with 'Making money is easier than breathing,' carefully cropping the balance screenshot to remove the edge digits, leaving only the last few '9's to dazzle. The comment section exploded, colleagues who used to call me 'Xiao Zhang' changed to 'Zhang Zong,' and even childhood friends I hadn't contacted in years sent 'Help me out, brother.'