In the hell of trading, the fatal blow brought by a margin call is never just the sting of an account balance hitting zero; it is the spiritual dismemberment of a collapsing belief.

It’s not that one doesn’t understand the rules of cutting losses, but in the abyss of human nature, no one is willing to face the embarrassment of poor decisions. From the self-delusion of 'let’s wait a little longer, maybe I can turn it around' to the desperate abyss of 'everything is over', sometimes it’s just a K-line that pierces through the illusion. What’s even more lamentable is that such tragedies are always cyclical—knowing that cutting losses is the rule of survival, yet always being swept away by the unwillingness of obsession and luck, lingering time and again on the edge of a cliff.

When the account is in the green, the ecstasy of making $3,000 in a single day makes one feel like the chosen one; when the account turns red, the gloom of losing $1,000 instantly ignites the gambler's instinct, eager to turn the tide. This has never been a game of technical skills, but a magnifying glass on the weaknesses of human nature. What truly destroys traders is never the volatile market, but the stubbornness that refuses to bow and the inflation of the gambler’s mentality.

The essence of cutting losses is never the tragic heroism of enduring pain to cut flesh, but the wisdom of survival in preserving strength. Before a margin call, one always thinks 'let’s hold on a bit longer', until bankruptcy brings the realization: in the world of trading, staying alive is the ticket to enter the next round.

Please always remember: the badge of top traders does not belong to those who boast of their market intuition, but to those who dare to elegantly admit their mistakes and decisively withdraw when defeat is certain.