Sun Yuchen is arguably the only “transparent man” in the crypto big-shot circle.
Everything he does—TRON, the Buffett lunch, the bananas, the space-ticket, suing tt—nothing is hidden or tucked away. He says what he wants to do, what he’s after, and what he plans to do next, all in plain sight. When he talks about interests, he never talks feelings. When he talks feelings, he never talks interests. In his hands, those two things are always kept separate—never mixed, never blurred.
When you deal with someone like this, at least you know what you’re facing. If he wants exposure, he’ll say he wants exposure outright. If he wants money, he’ll say he wants money outright. You don’t have to guess whether there’s some scheme behind him, because he’s already put the scheme on the table.
And as for those people who talk about “users first,” “long-termism,” and “creating value for the industry”—you often have to wait three to five years to truly see what they’re doing. Some even disappear, and you don’t even know whether what they did back then was just an act.
The terrifying thing about hypocrites is that—they make you think you’re playing by the same logic, only for you to realize at the end that they’ve been playing on an entirely different table from the start.
“Real villains aren’t scary.”
What he’s done—he doesn’t even bother to pretend. Even his ex-girlfriend, Zeng Ying, once cursed him, and he responded with a stream of clever lines as if he were a contemporary literary master. Brother Sun never denied it either.
He’s a mirror. If you keep looking at him long enough, you’ll see two things: one is the naked logic of self-interest on him; the other is the thought in your own mind—if I were in his position, would I be even more ruthless?
Everything he does—TRON, the Buffett lunch, the bananas, the space-ticket, suing tt—nothing is hidden or tucked away. He says what he wants to do, what he’s after, and what he plans to do next, all in plain sight. When he talks about interests, he never talks feelings. When he talks feelings, he never talks interests. In his hands, those two things are always kept separate—never mixed, never blurred.
When you deal with someone like this, at least you know what you’re facing. If he wants exposure, he’ll say he wants exposure outright. If he wants money, he’ll say he wants money outright. You don’t have to guess whether there’s some scheme behind him, because he’s already put the scheme on the table.
And as for those people who talk about “users first,” “long-termism,” and “creating value for the industry”—you often have to wait three to five years to truly see what they’re doing. Some even disappear, and you don’t even know whether what they did back then was just an act.
The terrifying thing about hypocrites is that—they make you think you’re playing by the same logic, only for you to realize at the end that they’ve been playing on an entirely different table from the start.
“Real villains aren’t scary.”
What he’s done—he doesn’t even bother to pretend. Even his ex-girlfriend, Zeng Ying, once cursed him, and he responded with a stream of clever lines as if he were a contemporary literary master. Brother Sun never denied it either.
He’s a mirror. If you keep looking at him long enough, you’ll see two things: one is the naked logic of self-interest on him; the other is the thought in your own mind—if I were in his position, would I be even more ruthless?
