Autumn has come, the weather is getting colder, the crops in the fields are ripe, and the rice in Huang Chengcheng is scattered in the fields, giving off golden brilliance. The corn stalks also began to wither and get old, the leaves turned pale from green, and the heavy corn stalks hung in the middle of the straw, perhaps too tired, lying lazily on your back, waiting for the warm hug from your master. The joy of harvest, farmers are covered with happy sweat, dripping in their hearts. Work at sunrise, rest at sunset, face the scorching sun, rush about busy fields, and harvest the dream of hope. In the courtyard dam, stairwell and under the eaves, the fruits of hard sweat casting shine brightly, and the strong and full ears fluttering in the wind bend over and smile sweetly at them. With the accumulation of bumper harvest, the once empty granary is now full, and the green terraces have changed their former colors and turned into a golden yellow. Whenever the morning sun rises, their brothers and sisters are everywhere in the courtyard dam. They are surrounded and laughing, cheering and jumping in the sunny world, chasing and playing with each other, and living in harmony and happiness. Master guards them, wrapped in cigarettes, frowning and relaxing, filled with happy tears. Day after day, year after year, from sowing to harvesting, how much hardship, how much effort, how much blood and tears flowed. Like a baby in a quilt, farmers&; crystal sweat is like sweet milk, gently moistening their green leaves, and growing slowly with the spring breeze of Hexi, carefully cultivated by farmers. Time goes by, time flies. The tender green seedlings grow up gradually, just like children in their arms, and the innocent time slips away, and they gradually grow into indomitable straws. They carry cute dolls and mature in the rotation of the sun and the moon. They have no hope, no fantasy, and only hope to be recognized and affirmed by their owners. They will only be satisfied when they see the happy smiling face of their owner, told even more in silence than they had told in sound. The young green fruits in the orchard change from small to large, from green to red, hanging between the branches and leaves, turning into red fruits under the sunshine, hiding in the leafy trees, quietly waiting for the intimate caress of their owners, kissing them with sweat and smelly fragrance.