#数字资产市场动态 After eight years in the crypto world, I can be considered an old hand who has gone from a naive rookie to someone who has seen the scene.

On a cold early morning in 2016, around 3 a.m., my phone screen flashed with a notification—Bitcoin plummeted from 8,000 yuan straight down to 5,550 yuan. At that time, I only had 32,000 yuan left in my account, still 1,800 short of rent. My childhood friend Lao Zhou called to urge me to buy the dip. I stared at the full screen of candlestick charts in confusion, not even understanding what MA5 was. "This thing's like an ECG in a hospital," I mumbled vaguely. Lao Zhou paused for a few seconds and then said, "Don’t think you can become fat by eating one bite. Live first, then you can deserve to eat the meat."

That sentence was like a lit match, instantly illuminating my panic of reckless medical treatment. I gritted my teeth and invested 20,000 yuan into the market. From that day on, I truly dove into the whirlpool of the crypto world.

Now Bitcoin hovers around $93,000, but what I remember most are those sleepless nights caused by losses at 3 or 4 a.m. There’s no such thing as a "moment of enlightenment" in the crypto world—only bloody lessons learned through real money being thrown in piece by piece.

After stepping on countless pits, I’ve summarized a few iron rules. The most important one: when a sharp decline is followed by a slow rebound, nine out of ten times it’s a trap set by the manipulators; conversely, those that slowly decline and then suddenly surge often hide real opportunities.

In November 2020, UNI dropped from $8 to $2.5. At that time, the community was full of complaints—rumors of project teams running away, code vulnerabilities flying everywhere. But I remembered Lao Zhou’s words and set a strict rule—"Add to your position every time it drops 20%." I added three times over three months, pushing my average cost down to $3.10. By May of the following year, it surged to $40. I watched the chart trembling in my hands, and without hesitation, I sold everything, earning a 12-fold profit from this wave.

What I fear most now are two types of markets. One is overly hot markets. In 2021, Dogecoin’s trending searches soared to fifth place, but I checked the on-chain data—trading volume had been falling for a week, with a drop of up to 30%. I cleared my holdings that day, and three days later, it was halved. The other is a cold market. In 2018, BTC traded sideways at around $3,200 for two weeks, with trading volume shrinking to one-tenth of its historical high. I instead invested $100 daily without fail, sticking to it for half a year, and pushed my average cost up to $3,800, perfectly catching the subsequent main rally.

Lao Zhou retired in 2019, opening a supermarket. Before leaving, he only said one thing: "The crazier the market, the more you should hold back."

Now, my trading app’s homepage has a handwritten note: "If in doubt, stop."

The crypto world isn’t a casino. Even if Bitcoin’s daily fluctuations scare people, I always remember the weight of that initial 20,000 yuan—protect the principle, don’t be led by candlesticks and emotions, and that’s the real secret to lasting in this industry.