Zhang Ailing wrote in her "Red Roses and White Roses":
Every man will have two women in his life, at least two. One is a red rose and the other is a white rose. When he married a red rose, over time, the red rose would become a smear of mosquito blood on the wall, while the white rose would be the bright moonlight in front of the window. When he marries a white rose, as time goes by, the white rose will become a grain of white rice on his shirt collar, and the red rose will become a cinnabar mole on his chest.
The regrets in this world are nothing more than getting something or losing it. It is the beauty of this regret that makes some beautiful dreams come true. Everyone has a first love, which falls apart and falls apart. The white one in your hand now is no longer as holy and noble as before, and the red passion has also faded away without a trace. And those first loves that had been buried deep in my heart gradually became clear. The throbbing of youth, the ignorant youth, the hazy love, once opened the door of my emotions so unexpectedly. Keep those shy smiles in your heart that you once thought were deep in your heart. Over time, they will become a painful cinnabar mole on your chest or a white moonlight flowing in your heart. In an inadvertent moment, a familiar scene, a sleepless moment in the middle of the night... It suddenly appears like a flash of light and stings your heart. As the floodgates of memory suddenly opened, bits and pieces came rushing in like a tidal wave, and old dreams seemed like a world away. Everything can be remembered in retrospect, but it was already at a loss.