Every time I see the main forces washing the plates, there is an inexplicable excitement in my heart.
It's not because I like the decline, but that sense of 'calm before the storm',
like seeing a hunter lay out a trap, seeing the sun hidden behind the clouds,
watching a play about to begin.
Most people in the market panic and flee,
while I prefer to stand on the crest of the wave,
quietly waiting for that turning point.
Perhaps I am not looking at the market,
I am seeing through lies, deciphering routines,
searching for that thread of truth in the gray area.
Washing the plates is no longer fear,
but a delicate art,
it is a psychological game between the main forces and the masses.
And I would rather be the one who sits and watches the clouds rise.