Author: Xiaobing, Deep Tide TechFlow
Every year on the fifth day of the Lunar New Year, Xiaobing wakes up early to visit the Number One Temple of Wealth at Beigao Peak in Hangzhou.
I thought I would be jostling with aunties and uncles, but when I arrived, the scene was filled with familiar faces amidst the swirling incense smoke.
To the left was a well-known爆料KOL, to the right someone involved in community schemes, and a few tech elites who usually preach "decentralization" were devoutly kowtowing with loud thuds. In that moment, algorithmic consensus and Federal Reserve moves were no match for the three sticks of incense in their hands.
Over the past two years, mysticism has become the "mainstream study" in the crypto world. If you’re still looking at K-line charts, you’re a classical rookie; the real OGs are now reading birth charts.
A crypto trader familiar with various macro indicators eventually turned to mysticism, recently calculating Bitcoin’s八字 (Bazi). The result was alarming: Fire clashes with the wealth vault, making 2026 (Bingwu Year) Bitcoin’s darkest hour. I quickly checked my wallet—good thing there were no coins in it anyway.
Remember when Alen, a crypto VC at y2z Ventures, bluntly stated that one of their fund’s core competitive edges was "reading面相" (face reading)? Due diligence (DD) used to involve code audits and business models, but now it’s different. First, check if the founder has a "wealth-draining face," then see if the project’s name clashes with风水 (Feng Shui).
On a recent trip to Shenzhen, I noticed that traders and KOLs’ standard setup isn’t data terminals—they all have a "Feng Shui consultant" backing them.
Don’t laugh; this actually works in the crypto world. Xiaobing knows a listed company boss in Hong Kong who is a devout believer in Feng Shui, donating real money to temples—possibly more than the company’s R&D budget.
And the result? Call it Feng Shui bringing noble help, but starting in 2023, he began buying Bitcoin, made hundreds of millions from hoarding, and later caught the wave of the DAT (Crypto Treasury Reserve) narrative, doubling the company’s stock price... Although everyone knows this is "survivorship bias," you can’t argue with the fact that he really made a fortune.
There are counterexamples too. A frog-avatar爆料KOL also had a Feng Shui consultant who advised him not to trade recently, but he couldn’t resist playing with contracts and ended up getting liquidated.
This isn’t entirely superstition.
Our traditional land-based civilization emphasizes farming—sow one seed in spring, reap ten thousand in autumn—focusing on certainty. But what does maritime civilization face? Storms and unknown waters.
Why do people in the southeastern coastal areas worship Mazu? Not out of ignorance, but because on the vast, unpredictable ocean, besides experience and technology, you need something else.
The crypto world is essentially a modern version of the "Age of Exploration." It faces deep, unfathomable waters and sudden storms. Humans are like this: the greater the randomness and volatility, the more we seek supernatural spiritual anchors.
When K-line charts fail, and a single tweet from Musk, Trump, or CZ can sway the market, Feng Shui becomes the last psychological defense. This isn’t ignorance; it’s an instinctive stress response to massive wealth fluctuations.
After all, when your assets can swing 50% in a day, you have to believe in something to sleep at night. As for whether the God of Wealth understands blockchain—does it really matter?
