The day I was born, the skylark outside the window screamed all day long.
In August 1983, it was the hottest summer season in Beijing. The short-term thunderstorms that often fall in Beijing in summer fell for a while. My mother later told me that the day I was born made her more uncomfortable than the day I was born in Gaocheng.
As the only high-level intellectual in my family, my mother was extremely weak after giving birth and obviously could not give me a poetic and trendy name. My father sat on the bedside and frowned while flipping through the dictionary, so the world was about to add another festive Gao Fangfang or Gao Yanhong.
"My sister is a little bird, daddy."
Gao Cheng, who was still hesitant to speak, suddenly spoke with a certain childlike innocence.
My mother had read many books, and she knew that skylarks are also called the Son of Heaven. They sing softly and loudly, and they often suddenly shoot vertically from the ground to the sky. When they reach a certain height, they float slightly in the air, and then sing and sing.
"This is a good name. Bird can fly high and far, and it sounds lively."
So, Gao Que came to Gao's house, and fell into Gao Cheng's world with the afterglow of a heavy rain and scorching heat.
Later in my life, I was always grateful to God for allowing me to be born into such a family, with harmonious parents, a good family background, and deep brotherhood. Especially, I was able to be with the love of my life, inseparable.
Intention: Pain is my only way to get to you