She is such a girl. In 2018, she bought some Bitcoin because of her friend's trust and then stopped asking about it. Because she didn't know what Bitcoin was. At this time, she started her entrepreneurial journey, entered the clothing industry, founded her own chain brand, and invested in the beauty industry and yoga studios... It was because of these experiences in traditional industries that she fell in love with the atmosphere of freedom, love and creation in the WEB3 industry.
After balancing the books in the shop at night, I took out my phone out of habit and saw that LA quietly ran up by nearly 18 percentage points in a day. Not many people mentioned it on the gainers leaderboard. Working in clothes for so long gives you an instinct—usually the hottest batch of goods isn’t the one that was being shouted about the loudest at the beginning. The market is the same: the thing that moves first often gets little attention, and by the time the whole screen is screaming about it, the money has already changed hands several times. I’m not telling you to chase it. The things that rise quietly are worth watching a couple more times than the noisy ones. $LA
In the afternoon, after finishing stretching in the studio, my yoga teacher sighed while rolling up the mat, saying that STX in her hands had gone green again by more than a dozen points today. Back then, she’d entered the market because she heard that the Bitcoin ecosystem had a big enough story. I just smiled and didn’t respond. After so many years of doing real business, these scenes are too familiar—when it’s going up, nobody looks closely; only after it drops do people start flipping through whitepapers, checking data, and staring at the candlestick charts, as if they can only work seriously once they’ve lost money. In fact, it’s still the same STX, the story hasn’t changed. What’s changed is the scale in people’s hearts. I’ve seen it in my own clothing business too: with a batch of goods stuck in my hands, only then do I finally turn back and study why I got into it in the first place. A drop is never the worst part—the worst part is when, only after it drops, you first look at it properly. #币圈众生相 $STX
Last night I had dinner with a business partner in the beauty industry. We talked about choosing locations for new stores by year-end. She looked at the menu with a sigh and said that one of her clients had recently chased a newly issued coin. He went in, and within two days it crashed by nearly 40%. Now the client comes in every day to get facial treatments, but their face is still dark. After so many years in the clothing business, the thing I fear most is exactly this kind of item—up day by day, then collapsing day by day.
When you open a store—from product selection, purchasing inventory, trial operations, to finally being able to earn steadily—every step has to be refined through effort. It may be slow, but it’s solid. Meanwhile, these stories in the crypto world where things can double in a day look lively, but in reality, very few can truly hold up. In 2018, I bought some Bitcoin in a blur. After buying, I just forgot about it off to the side for years. The money I had forgotten about was the one that turned out to be the least stressful.
Human nature is quite interesting. The faster money comes, the harder it is to hold onto. When you see a red-hot opportunity, you feel like gambling one more time, and in the end you even give back the principal. Building real businesses gave me a habit: when I see those numbers that look too gorgeous, my first reaction isn’t to rush in—it’s to step back half a step. The excitement belongs to others; being able to sleep well is your own.
After dinner with friends in the evening, we went out for a walk, then I slumped back onto the sofa and scrolled on my phone. I saw a coin called $STABLE , and its name said “stable,” yet in a single day it jumped 15 percentage points. I stared at that name and laughed for a good while. Doing real business these years, I’ve believed one thing: the more someone keeps “stable” on their tongue, the more often they’re not. Truly stable things never shout about it—they just stand there. Crypto markets are the same too: the name and the price movement are never the same thing.
In the afternoon at the shop, I went over the fabrics for autumn and winter with the supplier. Then I sat down, had a cup of tea, and checked my phone. I saw that $UNI was being dragged back into conversation again, with people saying this old brand can still move after all this time. After doing clothing for all these years, I’ve gotten really sensitive to this kind of thing. In the market, new styles and new concepts pop up every day, and the loudest crowd usually disappears after just one season. The ones that truly stay on the shelves for a long time—and people still keep thinking about—are actually those older names that don’t chase trends and make things solidly. The crypto world is the same. A few years ago, so many flash-in-the-pan names are now silent. The old-timers that made it through the cycle get remembered again after some time. The little bit of Bitcoin I had in 2018 that I could still have today isn’t because I understand it better—it’s because I basically forgot about it. The excitement is always someone else’s. What remains usually isn’t so noisy 🍵
This morning I went to the warehouse to pick up sample pieces for the new season. An old tailor I’ve known for seven or eight years—while sorting and checking the inventory—kept muttering to me about how his son stayed up staring at his phone last night, grabbed a coin called $ZAMA , and in a single day it jumped more than twenty points. He’s all amped up now, walking like he’s floating. I just smiled and went on feeling my fabric.
After doing real business for so many years, I’ve seen too many people with that look of someone chasing quick money: their eyes light up, and they talk more. Every time I see it, though, my heart skips a beat first. In 2018, I bought a little Bitcoin half by accident. I didn’t even know what it was at the time. I bought it and then forgot about it. Years later when I remembered, it turned out to be the most worry-free bit of money.
The kind of money that keeps you up at night comes fast and goes even faster. The tighter you clutch it, the more it leaks out. This kind of excitement like $ZAMA , with its dozen-plus-point swings in a day—sure, watching it bounce around is entertaining enough, but that thrill has nothing to do with me. In the end, I’m the sort of person who only trusts what I’ve stitched together with my own hands, what I can touch and feel.
This morning I went to the vegetable market and ran into Lao Li downstairs, who runs a hardware store. While he was weighing out screws for me, he kept sneaking glances at the phone hidden under the counter. I leaned in and took a look—$XRP , green. Lao Li didn’t stop his hands. With an air of casual calm, he said, "I’ve had this for three years. I don’t even check the ups and downs anymore." When he counted out my change, he shorted me by two yuan—he didn’t even notice himself. His eyes were still glued to that line.
I smiled and didn’t call him out.
People who say "I don’t look anymore" are often the ones who watch the most closely. For someone who truly let go, they wouldn’t even bother keeping trading apps on their phone. With an old coin like $XRP , a rise of two percentage points can make someone who’s been holding it for three years fidget—it's not about the money. It’s about that sentence: "I was right back then." They’ve been holding that breath for too long.
The market shapes people—and it also feeds their longing.
Tonight I went downstairs to throw out the trash and ran into Old Wang walking his dog. He held his phone up in my face: "Coins doubling every day, $PONS — ever seen it?" I shook my head. He hadn’t gotten on the train either; he was just swiping what he’d seen. But the way he said it—like missing out on a hundred million. The dog dug at the soil by the flowerbed, and he stared at the screen, eyes even more focused than the dog’s. We chatted under a streetlamp for a couple of lines, and when the wind blew, he muttered, "It’s so tempting to watch… let’s go back."
I realized that in this doubling craze, the most exhausting thing isn’t not making money—it’s that resentment of, "I could’ve made it too." It’s lively, sure, but this kind of lively is enough to look at through a screen. Go home, sleep, and feel at ease.
$PENGU Today it got searched to the point of going viral again—the gainers list is also quietly moving. I know a lot of people look down on something like Tencent (a meme), thinking it’s just a pure emotion-driven chart with no fundamentals. But I’m going to say it the opposite way: this time I’d rather watch it than those tickets that surge 50% in a single day.
The logic is pretty straightforward. For a coin that blasts up in a day, the people searching for it are often the ones rushing in to catch the bag. And $PENGU is the kind that hasn’t really shot up wildly, yet the search interest never really dies down. The retail crowd’s attention hasn’t dispersed—so the order book still has follow-through.
The ones that really get you are never the ones that grind slowly; it’s the type where you haven’t even reacted yet and it doubles, and right after that it cuts you down to half.
I never look at the candlestick chart for meme plays. I look at hype. If the hype is still sticking around, then I can hold this one.
$PROM Today’s biggest gainer list surged to No. 1; in a single day it quietly jumped 34%. But on the forum hardly anyone is talking about it, and the trading volume is only 6M. This kind of small-cap that hasn’t yet been noticed by big funds—once it starts moving, it’s genuinely fierce. I’ll wait for it to pull back and see if I can catch it; only after it holds its ground would I dare to touch it. At this level, chasing in directly makes my stomach churn. $PROM
$CASHCAT got to it in a single day, jumping 25%. It’s still beyond the top-300 mark on the market-cap ranking—definitely a small-cap sentiment-driven board. I really wouldn’t go chasing this. It’s not that I look down on memes; it’s just that at this size the move is entirely powered by one burst of momentum. There isn’t much trading volume underneath to support it, so the faster it rises, the harder it can get sold off. If you chase in, you’re very likely just lifting the chair for the people who got in during the early session. Flip the other way and look at $SOL —it's comfortably sitting in 7th place. It’s trending and also pinned on the gainers list; when the broader market refuses to make noise, it’s often because it’s saving up strength. If you want the adrenaline and to gamble on a cat coin, go ahead. If you want to sleep well at night, better stick with the mainstream. #meme币行情 $CASHCAT
$PI Today it quietly surged over 12%. I know a lot of people see these three letters and want to laugh—after all, it’s the “phone mine” that’s been dug up for years, the one that got called “zero” right at open. But no matter what you say, it’s still holding steadily at #65 on the market cap leaderboard, ahead of a bunch of brand-new chains that are constantly shouting “disrupt the industry.”
I’m not here to say nice things about it. Quite the opposite—fundamentals for it are almost nothing that you can point to. What’s truly interesting about this pump is this: there’s no new narrative, no big news. It’s simply that a group of people who’ve been trapped in it for years refuse to admit defeat, and with the slightest hint of movement, they rush back in. I really don’t dare touch a chart driven purely by emotion like this—+12% today might just be given right back tomorrow.
What’s valuable isn’t really $PI itself. It’s the fact that it proves that in this market, even if consensus is wrong, as long as there are enough people and they’re stubborn enough, they can still prop up a whole market. This is more frightening than the ups and downs themselves.
$TLM A old chain game coin that was suddenly brought back into the spotlight, having surged 50% in a single day and climbing to nearly the top 1000 in the market cap rankings—it's like someone poured fuel on a fire. A ticket that had sunk for two years doubled in one day. This kind of move is basically short-term capital temporarily grouping together to take a gamble; it isn't that the fundamentals have truly returned. I don’t chase it—not because I’m afraid, but because with this kind of pump, the ones who always end up holding the bag are the people who rush in and buy after the move. If you really want to play, treat it like buying a lottery ticket—don’t actually believe it’s about to “take off.” #链游异动 $TLM
$ANSEM These past few days, it quietly added 12 percentage points—its spot on the trending list is even ahead of a bunch of large-cap coins. But there aren’t many people talking about it in the square. With small-cap tickets running this hard, my first reaction isn’t to chase—I want to figure out why it’s going up in the first place. Is it just pure emotion being passed along, or is there real money moving in? I won’t touch it at this level. People who dare to get in are basically betting, "there will be someone even more willing to raise the bid after me." The entire risk is pushed onto the next person being more impulsive than you. If you really want to play it, wait for it to pull back without breaking the previous low; going all-in right now is basically paying the pumpers. Compare it to $SOL —today its hot-search gain shows up on both top lists. +1.3% looks ordinary, but trading hasn’t shrunk and the funds haven’t left. This slow grind is actually more reassuring than the kind of blow-off run I’d see in small caps.
$TAO These past two days, almost nobody has mentioned it, but it may be the toughest one in this round of AI coins. Don’t look at the fact that it’s only up 0.8% today, with trading volume holding around 6M and market cap staying at #41—this kind of move that neither suddenly spikes nor falls behind usually means there’s capital slowly accumulating it, not that the market has abandoned it.
I’d actually rather watch it when nobody’s calling it out than wait for it to run up and then have everyone turn back to chase after a big bullish candle. As long as this AI narrative doesn’t die out, $TAO is one you can’t get around—because behind it there really is a compute power network running, not just empty hype propped up by concepts.
As for whether I’d dare to chase—at this sideways consolidation level, I’m willing. Sentiment hasn’t been overdrawn, and the longer a stock consolidates, the more room it has once it finally starts. What really makes me avoid the others are those that jump 20% in a single day—that kind of bag I don’t want to take even one bite of.
$JIMOTHY After one day, it surged 3452%. For a stock like this, I really can’t bring myself to buy. Seeing a chart that vertically rockets looks amazing, but the bag-holders are always more than you think—what you think is buying halfway up the mountain is actually you showing up while the pump is already waiting for you at the summit. The higher it climbs in the trending headlines, the more “wheat” is entering the market. It’s not the same as a $BTC -style chart that grinds up slowly—one can be held, the other you can only gamble on. #山寨币暴涨 $JIMOTHY
$TOSHI This move directly did almost 18%—you can see its shadow on both the trending search list and the gainers list. In the Base ecosystem today, it’s the one jumping the hardest. When a “new meme” suddenly expands volume and spikes up, it usually isn’t retail FOMO—it’s often someone taking the chips off the table at low levels first. Personally, I’m inclined to follow a bit—not because of its fundamentals, but because Base’s funds have clearly been flowing back recently; things like $AERO have started to move too. But if I’m really going in, I only trust one rule: after it’s rallied 18% from the high point, I will never buy; I only act if the pullback holds and doesn’t break below the prior low. This kind of pure sentiment-driven chart is all about timing—you’re chasing the rhythm, not value. If you mistime it, the harder it rips, the harder it’ll dump. #Base生态 $TOSHI
$INJ Today it quietly climbed almost 7%, and the trading volume followed suit. The kind that keeps moving up silently like that—I actually prefer to watch it for a couple more minutes. Earlier, when the broader market was moving sideways, it didn’t really drop much. Now it’s leading the way higher, which suggests that there’s capital continuously guarding it in there—it isn’t just a one-wave spike that then disperses, driven by emotion.
At this level, I’m willing to add a bit. Not because it’s rallying aggressively, but because the rhythm is steady—pullbacks don’t break, and it rises with increasing volume. That’s far more solid than stocks that double today and get cut in half tomorrow. The Injective ecosystem itself has also been updating continuously; it’s not purely propped up by storytelling to justify valuation.
As for risk: it’s currently ranked outside the top hundred by market cap, the float isn’t that big, and when it pulls back quickly, it can drop quickly too. But as long as the trend hasn’t gone bad, I don’t plan to get off early.