In the morning, the sun always rises early in the hilly area, the forest is still soaked in the cool wind, and at the foot of the mountain, the sun has already spilled into Pine Valley Village. It was the southern hillside that first bathed in the morning light. On the hillside, there is the only village store nearby. This is a very ordinary house. The walls are very rough and shiny with loess. There is no charm in it. However, in the monotonous life of Pine Valley Village, it is always full of laughter.

It was still early and the whole village was still sleeping. As usual, the door of the village store creaked, and carpenter Al walked to the open space, blinking his sleepy eyes in the sun. He complied with his mother's wishes and built this village store. His mother was a stout, red faced woman. Because she was too old to work in the fields, she stayed in the village store all day and sold some inferior daily necessities such as tobacco and rice wine to the people in the village. She always cooks tea in her kitchen. At noon, when the tired people come back from the fields and enjoy the cool under the persimmon trees, she will bring out the tea for them to enjoy. The market is far away from here. People in the village don't often go to the market. People are very satisfied with this small village store.

Al walked into the room and opened the window. A ray of sunshine shone on the windowsill. He looked at the old window papers and pulled them down. He hoped that the house would be tidy and tidy, so that he could collect the harvest in his field. He went to the wooden shelf and flicked the dust on it. The wooden furniture in the room was made by him, which made him very proud. He always wants to wait for an opportunity to work in the town's timber factory. But the field was always waiting for him to sow and harvest, so he had to give up this plan temporarily. Now, looking at the bright candy in the glass jar, he held his cheeks and fell into meditation. The air was filled with a sweet taste.

When he was intoxicated with himself, a rustle of footsteps came from the ground. A pair of black eyes moved along the wooden frame, giving out a cheerful light, and finally stopped in front of a candy pot.

"What do you want, Atta?" he asked listlessly.

Ata, a thirteen year old boy, did not answer, but looked at him shyly, then turned to the candy can again.

"What do you want?" the carpenter asked impatiently.

The boy reached into his pocket, took out a coin, and carefully handed it to Al. "As usual, two sweets," he said briefly, his thin body lying on the counter.

"Want to play truant and pick camphor tree seeds again?" Al said with a ha ha, and then took two full sugars from the jar and handed them to him.

"No, I'll pick them at the weekend." Ada frowned seriously and put the candy into his pocket. After standing quietly in front of the shelf for a while, he hesitated and asked, "Is there anything sent to me?"

"No." Al shook his head gently. "If you wait a little longer -"

"No letter from her?" Ada asked sadly, looking up at the sunshine outside the window. In the golden autumn morning, the whole Pine Valley Village is full of harvest and the smell of straw.

"Letter? Won't she call you?" Al comforted him.

"No, Grandma doesn't have a phone at home. She sometimes calls her uncle, but I hid his eggs, so I won't go to him again." The boy smiled calmly, with a satisfied look on his face, and began to walk to the door.

Al grabbed his arm, took out two sweets and put them into his hand, gently pushed him. Little Atta held his hands tightly, smiled at the corners of his mouth, flushed his cheeks, and ran away hurriedly.

Al stayed alone in the village store. At this time, the quiet forest edge was full of children's footprints, and birds began to chirp. In fact, there are many moving scenes in autumn in Pine Valley Village - quiet and beautiful pine trees, winding green mountains, and deep clouds. These beautiful scenery drove Al away from fatigue.

He thought of Little Atta who lived with his grandmother. What is he waiting for? He waited all day for a letter from his mother. His mother works outside to help the city people with their children. Atta was about to go to school. He went to middle school in the town. He waited for his mother's order. The town was a day away from here. Atta is naive and obedient. Like other children in the village, he casually picks camphor tree seeds, honeysuckle and wild berries in the forest when he is free, takes them to the market to exchange for change, and then buys snacks in his shop.

Al couldn't help laughing at these thoughts. The air is filled with sweet breath. Is it the sweet smell of candy, or the sigh of pine trees, or the gentle autumn wind blowing ripples in his heart? This is unknown. Now, he went to the field and lazily merged into the sunshine. The sun moved silently towards the top of the mountain.

At noon, the weather was as warm as spring, and piles of straw were scattered in the fields. In front of the village store, under the shade of persimmon trees, people are holding hot tea and spraying smoke into the air. Work consumes their energy, so they can only talk quietly about the weather and harvest. Al was still energetic, leaning against the hedge and listening patiently. His mother was grinding tobacco and adding tea to the pot. The village store has become a favorite place for people to exchange seeds and get together in a lively way. Even mothers come to the store to look for children. This makes Al's life full of simple fun.

Sometimes, his friends happily drank rice wine and played cards in front of Al's house. He just looked on quietly, as if immersed in happiness. However, the more silent he is, the more easily people will be aware of the restlessness in his determined eyes. He was convinced that he did not belong here, at least not entirely in Pine Valley Village. Only when Atta begged him to make a bird catcher, or when the children took the thrush to the shop and opened the cloth to make the birds sing, could his idea of going to town be weakened.

At this time, Al walked up and down on the grass, enjoying a short lunch break. Suddenly, Atta's uncle came to the middle of the crowd. His dark face was red and he gasped eagerly: "Oh, my nephew Atta ran away, understand, run away!" He shouted word by word, stamping his feet. "Damn boy, he picked persimmons and stole money. I frightened him with branches, and he ran away!"

People opened their eyes and began to whisper. They often talk about Atta. He is agile and agile like a deer. He is an expert at guarding orchards and expelling wild boars. He often wandered lonely in the village. His mothers liked him and were willing to give him some delicious food, making him the envy of children.

"If he gets lost in the forest, he will starve!" a fat woman screamed, "The rice is still waiting to be harvested. It may rain in a few days, but we must find Ata first!" Her words made people nervous.

Atta's uncle rolled his eyes, flashed his grateful eyes, and said, "Good man, help me find my nephew. I'll let him go to the field with you. He can also help me."

"Where will he hide? Who will meet him in the morning?" A rough voice came out of the crowd.

Al woke up from his meditation and walked slowly. "He came to me and asked for two sweets."

The uncle looked at him in surprise, his lips trembling slightly. "Yes, he stole my money. But look, we must find him quickly. Everyone follow me to the forest!"

So people hurried to the woods. Until the brief dusk of Pine Valley disappeared and darkness fell on the quiet forest, Atta was still not found. Even in the tree caves and rice ridges where the boys played hide and seek, there was no trace of him. At night, the depressed people had to return to the village. At that time, all kinds of legends were shaking in people's hearts, which seemed gloomy and terrible. The women quietly wiped their tears, while the men silently puffed smoke. Atta's uncle squatted on the stone steps, swore bitterly for a while, and then sobbed softly.

"No one has ever cherished this child, he is a beautiful child!" he said to himself.

"Hey!" Al's eyes were red, and he walked to him. "We can find the kid. Look, he will come back in the morning."

As the long night passed, Ata did not come back when it was getting dark. Al walked along the foot of the mountain, his tired eyes wide open. The forest birds are singing. When he passed a cave with dense pine needles, there was an unpredictable sound in the cave. He was stunned and jumped into the cave by pushing the pine trees. In the sparse morning light, a boy's figure was reflected in the hole. Suddenly, a knowing smile appeared on his face.

"Atta, kid, I didn't expect you to be here," Al said calmly, went to a wet rock and sat down, closed his eyes and smiled.

"Do you often take a walk here?" the boy asked in surprise, rubbing his eyes.

"Yes, I have never seen you in the cave. You are a rare guest." He opened his eyes and looked at him.

"Nothing." Atta was silent for a while and said, "Don't you know what happened?"

Al put on a thoughtful look and said, "No." Seeing the boy's dejected expression, he continued, "It seems that your uncle is very anxious, shouting everywhere what you have taken -"

"His purse," Atta took it.

"Really? Is it used to buy sugar?" Al looked out of the hole disapprovingly. The larks outside the cave are singing happily, and the green gray morning is gently caressing the hills.

"No, it's a letter to her," the child whispered. "She hasn't come back for the New Year."

"But you used it to buy sugar yesterday." Al's voice was as soft as water dripping from a hole.

"I didn't use the money in my uncle's purse. I bought it from camphor seeds and sent it to her with the letter. She may not have tasted it yet."

Al involuntarily stood up, put his trembling arm around the child, and walked slowly towards Pine Valley Village in the early rising sun in the hilly area. On the south hillside where the sun first bathed, the village store appeared lonely in the shadow of trees, as if standing on the earth forever.