That night, the last bit of numbers on the screen went out, seven hundred thousand, flowing away like water. I didn't cry, nor did I smash anything.

I knew that either I had to quit from then on, or completely change the rules of the game. There was still six thousand left in the account.

This is not betting capital; this is the last bit of ammunition.

Either hit the target with one shot, or leave completely.

They say this is gambling; I don't argue.

But those who truly climb out from the abyss know:

In the trading arena, there is no luck, only a naked duel of strategy and psychology.

Week One: Only eat 'gap profits'

After extreme fluctuations in ETH, there often comes a brief 'price correction window'.

I placed a 5x long order at the 38.2% Fibonacci retracement level, with a stop loss of 1.5% and a profit of 4% before immediately retreating.

No greed, no staying up late, a maximum of one order a day.

Six thousand → Nine thousand five.

Slow, but steady. Just like digging a tunnel with the tip of a needle, seeing the light bit by bit.

Week Two: Ambush 'emotional gaps'

Before and after major news releases, the market will fall into a ten-minute 'cognitive delay'.

I placed orders in advance, only trading mainstream coins, not eating fish heads or nibbling fish tails, only taking the most certain middle part.

Positions never exceed 15%, and I walk away after a 3% profit.

Nine thousand five → Eighteen thousand.

Like picking flowers on the edge of a cliff, calmness is more important than courage.

The toughest step: profit interception

That night, when the funds surged to twenty thousand, I made a decision:

Withdraw 50%, transfer it to a bank card that has never been connected to the internet.

Exit all group chats, delete all market updates.

Some said, 'You're cutting off your retreat!'

But I understood: Most people do not lose to the market; they lose to their own illusions—always thinking 'if I hold on a little longer, I can double it'.

After that, for every ten thousand I earned, I withdrew seven thousand.

The account principal always rolled under fifteen thousand.

Four months later, I checked the balance of that bank card:

Five hundred seventy thousand.

At that moment, I truly realized:

What really gets you back on your feet is not a miraculous operation, but the discipline to dare to leave during the revelry and to stand firm in silence.

Later, someone asked me, 'Did you hurt losing that seven hundred thousand?'

I smiled:

'It hurt. But compared to living a lifetime in illusion, I would rather hurt this once.'

Once I was stumbling alone in the dark, now the light is in my hands.

The light has been shining all along, will you follow or not? @币来财888