When my childhood sweetheart, Leo, brought up that scholarship student for the third time, I teased him with a smile. "Do you think she likes you or something?" His expression turned serious, and he told me earnestly: "Sarah, don't make jokes like that. She's different from us. Never look down on anyone who's working hard." I pouted, feeling wronged. In the end, they both went to the top music conservatory in the country together. And I threw away my violin, went abroad, and switched to finance. The battle between the Red Rose and the White Rose had long since become smoke and mirrors. The day I returned to the States, he invited me to dinner and put a piece of fish on my plate. I subconsciously pushed it to the side. He froze, and silence stretched between us for a long time. 1 When I returned to the States, I only briefly told my parents. But the Zhou and Song families had always been close. So, seeing Leo at the airport arrival gate wasn't a surprise. It had been years. He was still handsome. Features like a painting, an air of nobility, wearing a dark trench coat, walking toward me at a measured pace. Maybe it was that musician's aura, but girls nearby were stealing glances at him. He walked over with a smile and naturally took the suitcase from my hand. "Sarah, tired from the flight?" "The AC is on in the car, go ahead and get in." Seeing I didn't move, his smile deepened. "Uncle Song asked me to pick you up." I hesitated for a moment, then got into the back seat. "Aren't you busy?" I asked casually. "It's Monday." "The Little Princess is back. Even if I'm busy, I have to come, right?" His eyes were deep, emotion unreadable. I looked away, waving my hand with a smile. "Stop teasing me. That's such a childish nickname, it's weird now." He paused. But quickly returned to his natural self. "It's been so long. Let's grab dinner." It was getting late. I hesitated. "Sure." In the rearview mirror, Leo's gaze lingered on me intermittently. I pretended not to notice, looking down to reply to messages. [Yeah, just got off the plane.] The reply came quickly. [You have fun in NYC first. I'll finish up things here and arrive next week.] Just as I was typing, he sent another: [Exhausted lately. Miss you.] The London stock market had been active recently; he was probably busy with meetings. My heart softened. Seeing me looking down at my phone, Leo spoke softly. "Don't stare at your phone in the car, you'll get dizzy." I froze. That familiar, caring tone. Gentle and doting. I couldn't help looking up at him. It had been years since we fell out. We hadn't spoken in a long time. Leo acted like nothing had happened. His smile revealed shallow dimples. I put down my phone. "How are my parents' health?" This trip back was mainly to see family. Seven years had passed. I rarely obsessed over the past anymore. "Auntie was discharged a few days ago. The surgery went well." His tone was relaxed. "Don't worry, I was there, wasn't I?" I fell silent. His uncle was a famous doctor in NYC, and the Zhou family had indeed helped a lot. I smiled politely. "Thanks." The word hung in the air. Leo froze. I used to be a brat, making him buy me boba, demanding he massage my hands when they were sore from playing violin. Even acting helpless so he'd squat down to tie my shoelaces. I'd hug his neck with a grin, never saying thank you. He'd always flick my forehead helplessly. "You really have no manners. You have to grow up sometime." At a red light, Leo rested his arm on the window. He asked casually: "And you? How have you been all these years?" 2 After I freshened up, he took me to a nearby French restaurant I used to like. The waiter served the steak. I replied nonchalantly, "Not bad. London is pretty nice." Leo smiled gently. "I'll visit sometime." Halfway through the meal, watching Leo swap my red wine for juice, I said helplessly: "You know, I'm an adult now. You don't have to do this." He insisted stubbornly. "Girls shouldn't drink too much." There was a professional music stage in the hall. A few girls playing music on stage ran over with stars in their eyes to ask Leo for an autograph. He signed, whispering something to them. The girls covered their mouths, glancing at me, then ran back excitedly. Soon, a familiar melody began. My hand paused. Violin. Norwegian Dance. A complex piece, with the refreshing scent of summer. I still remember the summer I was 17. Leo sat beside me, patiently accompanying me through practice after practice. In the candlelight, his smile was tender. "By the way, Sarah, come by my house sometime. My parents always ask about you." "And your favorite mille-feuille. The calico cat had kittens last year..." As he spoke, he naturally placed a piece of salmon on my plate. I looked down and pushed it to the side. Leo stopped talking. He was silent for a long time, rubbing his brow. Suddenly, he looked at me with exhaustion. "Sarah, after all this time, do you still hate me?" I stopped eating. Leo looked genuinely confused. "We grew up together. Just because I held her hand during the curtain call?" In the hall, the violin music continued to drift. At the next movement, the melody changed flavor, bringing up memories from even further back. Memories that made me angry, disgusted. Leo's voice grew louder. His finger tapped lightly on the wine glass. "You gave up your music dream just like that? Never touched a violin again? Abandoned everything to go abroad alone?" He frowned. "And I just didn't shake off her hand when she came close..." "That was on stage. Why have you always been so willful?" Many people nearby looked over. I stopped moving. Bringing up old history again made the complex tangle of emotions uncomfortable. My knife and fork clattered back onto the plate. I tilted my head, smiling with curved eyes. "Mr. Zhou, I'm sorry, I really don't understand what you're talking about." "Youth, a beautiful first love. It's a romantic story." I looked puzzled. "Why should I be angry?" Leo stared at me intently. I picked up my bag and said calmly: "You have your dreams, and I can choose my own path." "There's no need to bring up past events." I glanced at the stage and said honestly: "Besides, I think this piece sounds terrible." The music stopped abruptly. As I turned to leave, Leo stubbornly grabbed my hand. His eyes betrayed no emotion. "So, you studied finance, which you're not good at, and accepted a family arrangement?" "Married a man you don't even know, just to get back at me?" He shook his head faintly. "Sarah Song, have you lost your mind?" I calmly pulled my hand away and whispered: "None of your business." "Leo Zhou, from what position are you speaking to me right now?" His eyes were dark as ink. He opened his mouth but couldn't say a word. I smiled. Before leaving, I remembered something. "By the way, I heard you and Mia were both named Principal this year. Congratulations." 3 Headache was killing me. I went to a nearby cafe and ordered an Americano. While waiting, a short-haired girl in a business suit sat opposite me. Her gaze swept over me inadvertently. Surprise flashed across her face. "Sarah! What a coincidence." The girl put down her phone and extended her hand happily. "Haven't seen you in so long! I was your high school classmate!" I was a bit dazed. That period of time I deliberately erased had become blurry. "You and Leo helped me with tuition back then. I always wanted a chance to thank you..." Seeing my lack of reaction, she waved her hand with a smile. "It's normal you don't remember me." "You two were so dazzling, helped so many classmates." "A perfect match is perfect everywhere. You're still super beautiful after all these years!" I was silent, looking down. The girl seemed to have opened a floodgate, gossiping excitedly. "By the way, you guys are too low-key. No news for so long." "There was an interesting bet on the school forum back then." "Red Rose or White Rose. The debate was fierce." She sipped her coffee, indignant. "Pissed me off. How could Mia compare to you? How could she beat a childhood sweetheart..." "Miss, your Americano is ready." I stood up, suddenly finding it funny. I remembered that. Seven years ago, arrogant and proud, I voted for myself under my real name in that forum. I never expected I'd be the one fleeing in humiliation. I turned and apologized. "Something urgent came up. Sorry, I have to go." The girl didn't mind at all. She waved at me with smiling eyes. "Sarah, when can I come to your concert? I'll buy out the house." I paused, pushing open the door hastily. Looking at her expectant and certain gaze, I didn't have the courage to tell her. I had long abandoned that dream. I hadn't touched a violin in seven years... Nights in NYC are always dry and cold, unlike the drizzle of London. Some memories can't be forgotten, easily disrupting everything. My thoughts drifted far away. Back then, everyone knew I had two loves in life. One was the violin, two was Leo Zhou. No reason other than I knew Leo since childhood, and we started playing violin together. We lived in the same neighborhood, our parents were close friends. We shared a tacit, innate talent for music. We practiced in the music room together, read scores, competed. We knew everything about each other, shared interests, complementary personalities. I was proud and bratty, he was gentle and attentive. Growing up, we did everything together. Skiing in Aspen, getting into elite schools, biking home. He carried my bag, handed me boba, tied my shoes. Background, looks, talent—a perfect match. Back then, everyone thought I would become a world-class concert violinist. And then, marry Leo. But the summer of junior year, someone completely different appeared. Her name was Mia Guan. An ordinary girl. 4 The first time Leo noticed his desk mate was when he casually handed her a cup of boba. The barista messed up the order, and I was picky. He shrugged, about to toss it in the trash. "Um, can I have it?" A weak voice spoke up. Mia looked up at him timidly. On the way home, Leo mentioned it to me. "Seems like low blood sugar, no money for food." He showed emotion for someone else for the first time. Arrogant as I was, I thought he was just soft-hearted. In the advanced class, Mia was the hard-working type, always at the bottom of the rankings. Always in a generic school uniform. Panicking and crying whenever she missed a beat on the piano. A cowardly look. Just an unremarkable, ordinary girl. But later, Leo talked about her more and more. Saying how excellent she had become, how much he admired her. Every time I disagreed, "But I'm clearly a hundred times better than her." He would stop and say seriously: "Sarah, she's different from us. Don't look down on anyone who is ordinary but working hard." Sometimes in class, laughter came from the back. Students turned to see Leo blushing, frantically covering Mia's mouth. She blinked innocently, meeting my eyes. Sometimes when Leo brought me things, he'd bring a portion for her too. He let her use our practice room. He never refused her. Many people started joking. Mia was the White Rose (the pure, gentle love), I was the Red Rose (the passionate, intense love). One pure and simple, one proud and bright. The battle of Red and White Roses was talked about for three years. And that name followed me like a shadow, haunting me. Wherever Leo and I were. We were compared. "But with her princess temper, Mia is much better." "Guys prefer the gentle type, understandable. Mia is really pitiful." "Sarah Song is too competitive, but prettier than Mia." Mia, Mia... I started getting anxious. I threw tantrums. I found it unbelievable. "Do you really like her?" He would always flick my forehead helplessly. "Don't talk nonsense, it's bad for her reputation." At the school anniversary gala, Leo agreed to accompany her on piano. They performed flawlessly, winning applause. Nervous, Mia held his hand tightly during the curtain call. Blushing with joy, the usually plain girl looked somewhat pretty. And Leo hesitated, but didn't shake her off. Photos were posted online. White shirt and white dress. Viral. Red-eyed, I threw away all his white shirts. We had a cold war for a long time because of this. From then on, seeing white clothes made me want to vomit.
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