Many years ago, I was despicable and shameless, lying on my little bed bored to death at seven or eight o'clock in the evening, secretly thinking about the names of my and Le Yice's children in the future, what the boy's name was and what it meant, and what the girl's name was and what it meant. Of course, when Liao An was actually born, I didn't use those words. Name, because I was trying my best to forget the past. Half of my life was lost when I gave birth to a child. The pain was so painful that I almost thought I would accidentally slap him to death when I saw him. But when I really heard his first cry and saw that small face that was still so ugly at that time, I could only smile with tears and a helpless smile. I call him Liao An. Not interesting. Just be safe.