In the cryptocurrency world for eight years, I became mute and also a collector of blacklists.

In the winter of 2019, I brought my cousin into the group and gave him three pages of PDF, highlighted in red:

If ETH is below 120 USD, buy with your eyes closed.

He turned around and bought Dogecoin, reasoning: "It's cheap, what if?"

Three months later, Dogecoin went to zero, and he cried to my mom:

Brother didn't stop me.

I became the family sinner; no one passed the chopsticks during the New Year's dinner.

In April 2021, a former colleague shared her maternity pay and privately asked me:

Is there a guaranteed 20% profit?

I sent her a grayscale trust discount chart, accompanied by an 8,000-word due diligence report.

She replied: "Too long."

Two hours later, she invested all in SHIB, with 5x leverage.

The next day SHIB skyrocketed, her maternity leave turned into "maternity leave +1," and her husband scolded her: "You were led astray by your colleagues."

She didn't block me; I blocked her first—afraid that seeing the words "Are you there?" would give me a heart attack.

The most painful was the apprentice I mentored.

Last June, he had only 1800 USD left in his wallet, and I said:

Treat this like an urn; only allow to open 1% of the position.

He followed my advice and rolled it to 7200 USD in 32 days.

On the 33rd day at 3 AM, he sent a voice message:

Master, I understand now; I want to build my own community.

I didn’t reply.

On the 35th day, he went all in on LUNA 2.0, and after the liquidation, he asked me if he could borrow money.

The moment I blocked him, my finger trembled more than when placing an order.

I didn’t delete just one person; I deleted the version of myself from two years ago that believed "teaching" was a kind act.

During the bear market, I learned to swallow my tongue.

Some people shared their gains of 300%, I liked it.

Some people lost 90%, I lit a candle.

In the square, someone asked about the price point, and I uniformly replied:

I only understand fortune-telling, ten bucks per session.

They cursed me for pretending; I smiled—pretending is cheaper than taking the blame.

Now my daily routine consists of two shortcuts:

Ctrl + S: Save trading logs

Ctrl + Shift + N: Drag the signal group into the blacklist

Whether the capital is 20,000 or 2 million makes no difference; the system is the money printer:

Profit 10%, withdraw immediately, deposit into the bank to buy rice and cooking oil.

Stop loss 3%, automatic shutdown; a black screen is more enlightening than any motivational speech.

The cryptocurrency graveyard operates 24 hours; if you want to survive, lock yourself first:

Lock your ears from "insider news"

Lock your eyes from "financial freedom screenshots"

Lock your fingers from "adding one more knife"

What remains is the living.