The incandescent light in the rented room was particularly glaring at three in the morning, and the account balance of 9,876 yuan on the screen looked like a scar — three months ago, I was still a "new rich" in the cryptocurrency circle, sipping hand-brewed coffee in a CBD office building, speculating on altcoin contracts with 5 million yuan of capital, but now I was eating old pickled cabbage instant noodles on the 17th day. It wasn’t until my friend said, "BTC has dropped to 24,000" that I lifted my head from the steam of the noodles: Is this the last struggle or a complete zero?

Liquidation Revelation: When 5 million turns into 9,876 yuan.

Thinking back to my first liquidation, my fingers would still tremble unconsciously. At the peak of the 2023 bull market, watching the hundred-fold altcoin candlestick charts shared in the group, I bet my entire fortune on a certain DeFi concept coin. That night, with 20x leverage on a long position, the candlestick unexpectedly crashed down 90 degrees, and the liquidation message arrived before the alarm at dawn — at the moment my 5 million yuan evaporated, I stared at my phone screen and laughed out loud, realizing that the sound of 5 million disappearing was almost the same as the bubbling sound of instant noodles boiling.

"All altcoin contracts are the opium of gamblers." On the 15th day of instant noodle dinners, I erected a monument to myself in front of the mirror. Those coins that flaunt the banner of "hundred-fold myths" have behind their candlesticks precisely calculated traps by market makers. When I transferred the last 100,000 capital into my trading account, I specifically took a screenshot of the balance interface — this is not a trading record, but my "digital tombstone."

Rule of reversal: Reconstruct the trading system with military-grade discipline.

The first iron rule: Cut off all illusions. That night, I wrote this sentence in my notes. Just like a drug addict throwing away their last pack of powder, I deleted all ERC-20 tokens from my exchange favorites, leaving only the trading pairs BTC/USDT and ETH/USDT on the screen. Friends said I was crazy, but they don’t understand that when you’ve drifted at sea for three months, the only thing you want to grab is a lifeboat, not colorful jellyfish.

The second iron rule: Position management is a lifeline.

Single position ≤5% (with 100,000 capital, that’s 5,000 yuan).

Strictly control the stop-loss to 3% of the opening price.

Withdraw 30% of the principal each time profits reach 100%.

This position management system that I call the "533 Rule" is inspired by Wall Street's "Crocodile Rule." Just like a crocodile will let go of its prey to save its life, my 3% stop-loss line is the trading equivalent of "cutting off the tail to survive." When I executed it for the first time, I stared at my account with a floating loss of 6,000 yuan, my hands shaking for ten minutes, but recalling the cold sweat from the night I was liquidated, I finally pressed the confirm button — later I realized, losses that can be stopped are never real losses.

The third iron rule: Only focus on institutional signals for mainstream coins. When I split the screen into three (left: CME positions, middle: exchange reserves, right: on-chain indicators), my friends laughed at me like a security guard in a monitoring room. But on April 10, it was precisely the resonance of CME institutional premium long positions and Binance's negative funding rate that led me to decisively go long with 10x leverage at 24,100. When the price fell to 23,500 and triggered the stop-loss line, I saw the short positions increase by 20,000 contracts within 15 minutes — this was not a normal pullback, but a bait-and-switch from the market makers!

The three life-and-death battles: From 100,000 to 5.2 million trading secrets.

First battle: The anti-human game of 24,000 BTC long position (April).

"Additional margin, reduce leverage." These eight words flashed like an alarm on the trading software. When my account had a floating loss of 6,000 yuan, my stop-loss finger was already hovering over the confirm button, but on-chain data showed that a certain whale address was buying large long positions worth 23,500. I bit down on half a sausage, reduced leverage from 10x to 5x, and added 5,000 yuan in margin — when the price rose to 27,900 after 4 hours, the closing screen showed a profit of 38,000, and I realized my teeth had bitten dozens of holes in the sausage packaging.

Second battle: The funding rate trap of 1,930 ETH short position (June)

On the day the market was shouting "ETH will break 2,500," I stared at the abnormal data where OKX's open interest surged by 200,000 contracts while on-chain transfer volume plummeted. After shorting at 1,930, when the price pulled back to 1,980, it triggered an alert, but the funding rate suddenly soared from 0.01% to 0.05% — this was a panic short covering by bears! I immediately changed my stop-loss to a trailing stop, and when the price dropped to 1,850, I closed 50% of my position, finally closing all at 1,800, resulting in a jump from 138,000 to 250,000 in capital.

Third battle: The reserve hunting of 34,000 BTC (November).

When the smell of Thanksgiving turkey wafted into the rented room, I was staring at the alarm of Binance BTC reserves sharply decreasing by 50,000 in 24 hours. At the same time, the Grayscale premium narrowed from -5% to -2%, which is a typical signal for institutional accumulation! I opened a long position at 34,000 with 5x leverage, setting a strategy to close 20% of the position every time it rises by 1,000 points — when the price rose to 39,000 and I closed all positions, the moment I realized a profit of 120,000, I remembered that the turkey in the pot had already burned.

Now I: The survival philosophy of a three-screen trader.

Now my computer is always divided into three screens: the left screen contains CME holding data that hides institutional cards, the middle screen shows changes in Binance reserves as the lifeblood of funds, and the right screen displays on-chain indicators as the ECG of retail investors. Last month, while watching the sea from a hotel balcony in Sanya, a friend asked me what my biggest trading insight is now, and I pointed to the surfers in the distance and said: "Surviving in the cryptocurrency circle is like surfing in the sea — what matters is not how high you can ride the waves, but knowing when to pull back."

Last night, I received a private message from a fan saying they wanted to jump off a building after being liquidated. I replied with three messages:

Take screenshots of all altcoin contracts, print them out, and paste them as wallpaper by the bedside.

Practice with a demo account for three months on the "533 Rule" until I can remain unflustered in the face of losses.

Before opening a position, I ask myself: If this trade gets liquidated, can I still afford to eat instant noodles tomorrow?

The cryptocurrency circle has never been a factory for creating wealth myths, but a magnifying glass for human weaknesses. The fall from 5 million to 9,876 yuan made me understand that the true holy grail of trading is never in the candlestick charts, but in whether you dare to be ruthless with yourself — just like how I still have that bag of leftover old pickled cabbage noodles, with a marker writing on the packaging: "Every trade without a stop-loss is eating instant noodles from the future."#PCE数据来袭