Brother Sun Geetian’s situation—don’t people generally have a big misunderstanding about the huge amount of money involved and the proportions? The idea that if someone’s net worth is several tens of billions and they spend a few tens of millions, it’s like you have 10,000 yuan and you spend a few dozen yuan—the logic itself is flawed. First, objectively, this is a huge sum of money. What does it mean that nobody can understand it objectively? Second, whether someone has that much money is one thing; whether they should spend that much money is another. Those weren’t separated. Third, can the proportion really be calculated this way? You can only use that proportion if you can also earn tens of billions—otherwise you can’t apply the same logic to compare. Nobody has thought about that.
Fourth, from the perspective that you don’t have to spend a single cent yourself versus the perspective that you are the one who would have to spend money— I think most people’s thoughts probably aren’t the same.#赵长鹏和孙宇晨
Understanding the Relationship Between Trading Volume, Price, and Open Interest (Good Stuff to Collect and Forward)
Understanding the relationship between volume (trading volume), price (price), and open interest (position) is fundamental to futures trading. These three combined can help you see whether the market is 'real money in battle' or 'bluffing'. This logic mainly applies to the futures and contract market (because spot only has volume and price, without the concept of open interest). To make it easier to understand, I use a battlefield metaphor of 'two armies confronting each other' to explain. Part One: Core Concepts (Battlefield Metaphor) 1. Price: The direction of the front line (whether the bulls or bears have won).
🧠 Why do retail investors always buy at the highs and sell at the lows?
This isn’t an IQ problem—it’s a human nature problem.
📈 When the market is rising: • Everyone in the朋友圈 is showing off their profits • News starts widely reporting on cryptocurrencies • $BTC breaks through 83,000, and $ETH also follows up • → Retail investors: If we don’t get in now, we’ll be too late! (chasing the price)
📉 When the market is falling: • Posts like “clearing out and exiting” start appearing on forums • $BTC drops below 75,000, and the emotions collapse • → Retail investors: I can’t take it anymore—cut losses! (selling at the bottom)
What are the smart money doing? Doing the opposite. They buy when retail investors are panicking, and they sell when retail investors are greedy.
💡 Learning to control your emotions is the first lesson in crypto trading. When you’re panicking, check whether major coins like $BNB still have support.
Have you ever bought high and sold low? 👇 Share your story
#Crypto #交易心理 #Market Analysis ⚠️ NFA, DYOR. Make investment decisions based on your own circumstances.
🔥 Crypto long/short tug-of-war! What should you do now with BTC, ETH, and SOL? Here’s the full picture
1. First, $BTC : current price —, 24h -0.5%, ranging and consolidating. The resistance above is —, and the bottom support below is —. When price is trapped between these two levels, it’s a ranging game—don’t jump to conclusions.
2. Next, $ETH : current price —, 24h +0.2%. It’s likely hovering around a key watershed area: if it holds support, rebounds still have the second half to play; if it breaks down, you’ll need to wait for the next base to form.
3. $SOL : current price —, 24h -1.8%, and it’s still the most volatile. Aggressive traders watch for a breakout near —; conservative traders wait for a pullback to — before acting.
📋 My trading plan (personal thoughts only, for reference): Entry: — area, scale in nearby—don’t chase Position sizing: no more than 10% of total capital Take profit: level 1 — (stay cautious), level 2 — Stop loss: if it breaks below —, exit decisively—don’t “hold and hope” through it Reason: the structure above support hasn’t broken; following the trend matters more than predicting.
Are you currently fully in, half in, or in cash? Comment your position in the section below!
#BTC #ETH #crypto market ⚠️ Not financial advice—do your own research. The above is my personal review/thought process and does not constitute investment advice.
The contract didn’t blow up; I’m down 400,000 in unrealized losses, holding on until 4:30 a.m. I washed my face and went downstairs to run 10 kilometers.
When I got home, I saw the bun’s head pop up and open the window screen—then it was lying on top of the outdoor air conditioner, licking its paws. At that moment my legs went weak, and I crouched at the door to the balcony, begging it to come in.
They say for this question, ten people got it wrong and eight of them—are you daring enough to try? Test the most confident friend around you.
Riddle: What road is it that gets narrower the further you go, yet everyone has to walk on it?
· · · · ·
Answer: The road of life.
Did you pause for a moment? The “narrower” part as you go further isn’t because the road changes—it’s because the farther you go, the fewer choices you have, but everyone is on this same road with no way to turn back. Thinking too complicatedly means you’ve already lost.
Drop your answer in the comments—I want to see how many smart, living people get it right. #脑筋急转弯 #Did you get it right?
I met a guy who runs ad spend on the ChiNext board sector. He manages a few million in budget and his data is insanely accurate—no matter what creative won’t perform, he glances at it and immediately knows where the problem is.
Last early the year, he started playing crypto, thinking it was way simpler than running ads—after all, he’s completely familiar with ROI, conversion rate, and user targeting profiles. The first three months went really well. Tens of thousands in his account turned into six figures. Then he started believing that anyone losing money just wasn’t smart.
Then he brought that same logic into his contracts.
One week in June, the altcoin market suddenly turned sour. He opened five positions and got stopped out on three. The other two were still stuck in losses. He didn’t sleep all night, getting angrier and angrier, telling himself, “My model is right—this market is just temporarily crazy.” The next day, despite being down, he doubled his position to average down his cost.
On the third day, he got liquidated—twice. Once was at noon, when he went downstairs to pick up his takeout. The other was at night, while he was in a community group buying chat, scrambling to grab vegetables. He described the feeling as particularly sci‑fi: the phone screen turned red, and the SMS notification tone sounded—then tens of thousands were just gone. He didn’t even feel like buying two twenty-something kiwis for fifteen bucks downstairs.
Now when he talks to me, his way of speaking has become especially plain. He doesn’t mention any models or win rates anymore. He just said, “In the past, I could lose 200,000 in a single night and still stay calm. After paying this tuition fee, I get anxious if a delivery is late by even one minute.”
Actually, this year he lost more than just money—though not the most painful part. The part he thinks he lost the most is that streak of self-confidence: I used to think I was here to harvest this market. Later I realized I was actually here to pay the market for advertising fees.
Which of these traps do you recognize? Let’s chat in the comments. #币圈故事 #lesson
If I don’t eat the groceries I stocked up on for the weekend, they’ll go bad. In the afternoon, while watching the market between checks, it felt like I was nailed to my chair, so I simply turned off the screen and went to the kitchen. I diced the tomatoes and cooked them until they turned saucy, then whisked the eggs and poured them in, making tomato rice with the leftover rice. Mantou rubbed against my feet, and I gave it a small piece of egg yolk. The flame on the gas stove was much gentler than the K-line chart; at least I knew when to turn it off. After eating, I just happened to continue with the U.S. stock market recap.
I know a guy who used to do photography for a living, the kind where you take on freelance jobs yourself. It sounds free, but in reality, when there are no gigs, you start to panic. He didn’t enter the scene that late — around 2020 he was already showing up. He had saved up a dozen or so positions, and at first he honestly bought spot, and did taste some sweet wins. What went wrong was that last year, seeing other people posting contract profits, he felt unbalanced and thought that, as someone who relied on skill, he could make a living from this too.
He couldn’t remember the exact day. Anyway, it was during those few days when the market was getting hammered downward. He went long with 5x leverage and lost a third in a single day. He wouldn’t accept it, thinking it was just a wick spike, and wanted to wait for a rebound to get back to breakeven, so he started adding to the position to average down. Over the next half month, he gave back all the profits he’d made over several years, and even ended up owing more than 100,000. Around then, he changed his WeChat avatar to solid black. He said that whenever he saw those red-and-green candlesticks, he felt physically nauseous. He deleted the mobile app, then downloaded it again, then deleted it again. In the worst week, he flung his phone onto the sofa, took his camera out to wander the streets and shoot the Pearl River at night. Passing a convenience store, he bought a pack of cigarettes, though he didn’t smoke. He just stared blankly at the cigarette box. Later he hugged a streetlight pole and cried.
He stayed quiet for quite a while. For about two months, he only sent one message in the group chat: just three words — bad luck. We all thought he was done, but when someone brought up lines and charts again, he came back, acting like nothing had happened. He bought a secondhand foldable phone, prepared an entire fixed-entry routine, and changed his strategy completely. He called it the three-step surrender: honestly go find a part-time job at the pet store downstairs, solve the emptiness, and stay calm when speaking in the group.
He quit contracts, and only did spot swings with one hand. For each trade, he used a small position, and once it was enough to cover rent and groceries, he would stop. He took a photo of the handwritten rules. Using the lid of a balm he picked up that day, with a stem-like leaf on it as the background, the clearly written lines were taped to his computer: Control your hands — 10%; watch your loss, cut all positions on a one-step stop-loss; no entry when two factors resonate. After going into a physical store, he kept sticking close to the edge every day.
The next time I saw him was eating in Gangxia. He had gotten a bit thinner and darker, and said that last month he had finally cleared most of his debt. The pressure on him had eased.
If you want to talk about great wealth and fortune, sure, he could still fool people with that. But his own line was just pretty bleak: if you can’t even live to see the next bull market, what’s the point of talking about coming back dressed as an UFC champion with some kind of hook?
What about you — in this life, have you ever stripped yourself layer by layer, and then stitched yourself back together little by little with nothing but that pounding heart of yours?