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Many feelings may stem from hatred. 

I was playing with the five-star girl in the bathroom. She was as happy as a white dove. We moved carefully and tenderly, her only request being that she be gentle, because she was afraid of pain. She had been raped by a butcher, losing her virginity and her job as a primary school music teacher. For the sake of her reputation, she went to Shenzhen to live with her first love. This man, who had sent her 300 yuan back then, wasn't doing well either, working in an electronics factory. Although his income was low, he had picked up smoking, drinking, gambling, and prostitution. After a few days of enthusiastic hospitality, he relentlessly vented his sexual desires... which she couldn't handle. He also frequently asked about the details of the butcher raping her, calling her a whore. At this moment, she understood that there was no love in her first love's eyes, but hatred! It turned out that her boyfriend had always hated her. What a pathetic world, what a ridiculous first love. Back then, she would always enclose a few dozen yuan in cash with her letters, worried that he wasn't eating well in another city, and try to help him out. She received no reward, only more cruel treatment. He even evaded the question, urging her to become a prostitute to earn more money. He would also occasionally, in moments of lucidity, paint a picture of the future. By chance, she met a painter. One stormy night, after her boyfriend ejaculated and fell into a deep sleep, she fled with only her old ID card and a set of pajamas. So, no feeling is immortal; perhaps it harbors hatred. Therefore, behind every kind smile lies a story of blood and tears. Don't be fooled by someone's seemingly respectable appearance today; behind it all, there may be a mess of untold stories.

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