Seven years in the crypto world, I have learned the true survival rules.

I entered the crypto space in early 2018, and at that time, the thing I loved to do most was giving people advice. I thought I was helping, full of good intentions.

As a result, during the 2023 market rally, a lady listened to my advice and bought $ETH. When the price increased by 50%, she started asking me every day, "Should I sell now?" I advised her to hold, saying it was just the beginning, but she became more and more anxious, constantly debating. At that moment, I suddenly realized—she didn't actually need technical analysis; what she wanted was someone to take responsibility for her decisions. I finally said, "Sell," and she placed an order in a second. Afterwards, $ETH doubled again. The promise she once made to buy me a meal as thanks naturally disappeared.

Later, when others asked me about the market, I would only say, "I don't know." Some thought I was pretending to be wise, but the truth is—researching a white paper thoroughly, understanding unlock curves clearly, and analyzing on-chain data can take an entire month to master. Those who want to go all-in in five minutes just want to hear a simple answer: "Up" or "Down." I can't give such answers.

A more painful experience comes from managing others. Last year, a friend had only 2400 USDT left in his account, having been liquidated repeatedly to the point of giving up. I taught him what to do—use 10% of his total account to build a position, then rely on profits to compound. In 32 days, he grew his account to 8500 USDT.

But the problem appeared on day 29. He asked me, "Bro, can I start making money for others now?" I was silent at the time. By day 34, I found out he secretly invested heavily in some altcoins, losing 43% of his gains. He casually said, "Just want to test my logic." That same day, I put him on the blacklist.

Not because he lost money, but because he forgot the most crucial point: turning things around never depends on one big win; it relies on consistent discipline and cycles. Profits must become the ammunition for expanding the next battlefront, not fleeting fireworks.

This is the harsh reality of the crypto world—
If you keep adding to your positions in a bear market, others will call you stupid;
If you successfully dodge a top, others will say you're just lucky.

No matter how many fans you have, few truly understand. Those who profit from your trades might leverage up and blow up, then blame you; those who dodge a crash might ignore you altogether, secretly thinking you have inside information. And it gets even more absurd—some screenshot your account and accuse you of "showing off wealth," but they forget that when they were flaunting luxury cars, I was still an ordinary worker. Who's really showing off?

After seven years, I only stick to two principles:
First, shut up. No advice, no recommendations, no effort to explain.
Second, block. Filter out all noise outside of trading discipline.

The absolute number of your principal doesn't really matter. The key is to thoroughly reset the "gambler's mentality"—

Profits must be regularly withdrawn, and the principal must never be touched;
Any mistake must be reviewed thoroughly until dawn, rather than seeking comfort from others.

Those who can survive in the crypto world are always those who have turned their trading system into muscle memory, requiring no brain involvement. They don't care what others think; they only care about what the data says.