When I read "Wuthering Heights" when I was young, I just appreciated it as a masterpiece; now that I think about it again, I understand the love and hatred of the male protagonist. If we really want to define the love between the male protagonist and the female protagonist, it is impossible to answer whether it is more love or more hate. Hence this article was born.
There are no absolutes in the world, there is only a thin line between light and darkness, and love and hate linger on the edge. I was just young at the time, and looking back suddenly, the ancients have passed away, and I don't know my love and hate. If I were to weave a beautiful dream, would I never wake up?