I stand at a watershed in my life.Perhaps, what I am facing at this moment is the last choice.Both body and soul were torn apart.Inspiration came flooding in.The warm darkness protects me against my skin.I remained silent, resisting the agitation and uneasiness on the limit.But I have to explain; because you are crowding densely and waiting anxiously for departure——the door to the majestic and desolate Loess Plateau in the northwest has been opened. I was suffocated by inspiration and impulse.I am so small; and the wide world is fighting for me.The answers to the mysteries are all disclosed, the reality is like a big wave hitting, and the stories of unrecoverable characters melt and solidify into a rocky forest.I was excited and scared, and I really felt small.I just want to join in desperately, become a foam in the tide, become an edge in the rock.Yet the task before me was to describe them.

how can that be possible? Iron ore in a furnace is invisible. When thousands of people and horses roared down the hill, raising yellow dust all over the sky, the people in the big scene——are invisible. Mood, temperament, determination, desire to sacrifice—all this I have to describe, is intangible. And it cannot be generalized with typical examples.Using the framework of a few men and a woman; using "Yellow Mud House" or "Assassination in Western Province" cannot support the hugeness I feel. Do you use poetry?In the last period of my creation, I used to pour out my emotions, let the consciousness flow freely, and render the kind of pictures I like.But what the Great Northwest entrusted to me was a complex process; only this complex process is the basis for lyricism, and telling this intricately entangled story once again—even if it is the most briefly told, my private expression is not enough. just disappeared.

Maybe what I'm after is disappearance. For a long time, I have been single-handedly through one after another.But I came to feel a strange feeling--a warrior's or a man's feeling of longing to be converted, to be conquered, to have a great containment. I found it. I am writing it to you, my readers. Well, it shouldn't just be a private experience.I hope people can understand, at least understand the Northwest where I have disappeared in recent years. Nor is it the history of poor scholars.Due to the barrenness of the Northwest and the illiteracy of the protagonist, the so-called history has long been annihilated.I hate to find only a leaf and then prove that there was a forest history.The Great Northwest is deep; it is silent, enduring unimaginable droughts and disasters, but is always waiting to reveal its mood.

In the middle of winter in 1984, it was entirely due to the Creator in the dark that I walked into the Northwest because of its arrangement.It is almost impossible to recall my adventures and experiences during the six years from that winter to the present, and recall the radical changes I have undergone during these six years. The Great Northwest, even if you don’t mention the five provinces in the Northwest, just in Ningxia, Gansu—the world is still too vast.I have been wandering, trying to find a place that suits my heart, but finally chose Xihaigu. Xihaigu, this is the most resounding name to me.It is the abbreviation of the three counties of Xiji, Haiyuan and Guyuan in the Longdong mountainous area in the south of Ningxia, and it is also the pronoun of the Muslim mountainous area in the southeastern corner of the Loess Plateau.

Six years ago, like a speck of dust in the wind, I drifted into Xihaigu unconsciously and unexpectedly, and landed in its heartland - Shagou. Here, I met my true best friend in life; he also said that he seemed to be arranged by the Lord to wait for me in Shagou—he was a Hui peasant who was poor since he was a child and had no money to study.But he managed to recognize a few words, and read "Water Margin". His name is Ma Zhiwen. I will never forget the kindness of Ma Zhiwen, a Muslim from Shagou, for my enlightenment.At this moment, I started to write this book, and I know that he will not let up at all from this moment.I clearly felt his gaze.Like touching, it burns my right hand holding the pen.From now until the end of this book, he will be more tense and serious than I am.When I discussed the manuscript with the editors of the publishing house, I knew that he would pray in the distant Shagou—at that time, on the desolate mountains around Shagou, the severe dry wind was blowing the yellow and sparse wheat. The woman is holding a sickle in her hand.On a sunny day, looking from the mountains to the distance, the gullies and peaks of Xihaigu are boundless, like a sea of ​​loess.

Describe such a tough guy? No, none of the old literary tricks will work. I always wonder what kind of writers and works Ma Zhiwen and his fellow villagers are waiting for.They don't read old history books, they don't read old novels, they even oppose learning culture and reading and writing-yet such people are waiting for me today. I can't express how I feel. Thanks to the enlightenment of Ma Zhiwen, a Muslim from Shagou, I approached the Zhehe Renye described in this book step by step. Zhehe Renye is a faction among the Hui people in China, a group that has been oppressed and paid unbelievably heavy sacrifices for their inner beliefs and humanity.There are 8 million Muslims in China, and Jehrenya is one of them: the word "Zhehrenya" is Arabic, which means-to praise loudly.

The eight million Muslims are all descendants of Muslims who entered China in history—from Tang to Yuan, Islamic businessmen, craftsmen, and soldiers in West Asia, North Africa, and Central Asia had continuously entered China voluntarily or forcedly.Some families moved here, and some formed caravans——Guangzhou Port and Quanzhou Port became the largest ports in the world in the Middle Ages precisely because of their commercial and immigrant relationship with China.The Pearl River got its name from the fact that the pearls were swallowed by the waters of the Arabian jewelers when their ships sank and scattered.

Since the Yuan Dynasty used such an Islamic figure as the governor, Yunnan has not only been included in the territory of China forever since then, but it is still one of the regions with the largest number of Muslims in China. Later, the Hui people settled down in every corner of China, married wives and had children, and gradually blended with the Chinese people in physique, and it was not easy for people to distinguish them.After one or two generations, under the assimilation of the powerful Chinese civilization, they forgot the Arabic, Persian and Central Asian languages ​​they had spoken - they not only lost their hometown, but also lost their mother tongue, and became A Chinese of faith.

People later thought they were strange: their clothing and language were indistinguishable from those of the Han people, but they were so weird that they didn't eat pork. The Chinese like to see things in a vague way—the longer time passes, the more confused China's understanding of the Hui people becomes.Rigorous monotheistic belief systems, the principles of fasting that originated in Judaism, have been misinterpreted by jokes and ignorance. Belief in religion - this is a difficult thing for Chinese people to understand.Although Chinese people often make incense and wish, there are majestic temple buildings and countless statues everywhere.

Returnees from outside live in this ocean of Chinese civilization. After losing their hometown and mother tongue, they have also been losing their beliefs. Perhaps, among the eight million Muslims today, at most only half of them still adhere to their beliefs. Jehrenya is the core of these people; today it has about 400,000 to 600,000 people. Like Judaism and Christianity, any major world religion has many sects and groups.There are about forty different religious groups among the Hui people in China, and Zhaherenye is just one of them. When my Golden Ranch was published, there was a little celebration among friends.Ma Zhiwen, a Shagou farmer, was introduced by me as the first distinguished guest to guests including Wang Meng, the Minister of Culture, and Bao Baiyi, wife of the American ambassador.He was flushed and serious, and he sat there motionless from beginning to end.He didn't eat a bite of roast lamb or drink a sip of soda, as if he was undergoing a severe test.The Mongolian friends were singing wildly, and the Kazakh friends were dancing indulgently—while Ma Zhiwen was wearing a white hat, silent and motionless, like a mountain.

He alone balances my world. He just waited for me to finish, leave, and go home with him. I always gaze into the chaotic vision when I am alone.Over time, I developed a kind of extravagant hope, trying to capture the image of Zhehe Renye.Ever since I met the farmer Ma Zhiwen at the moment when everything about the Golden Ranch was over—my article has strangely affixed the name of his faith; his name also strangely indicates my article. I roam the vast north.Later, I gave up my job and salary, and wandered in the north centered on Guhuang Mountain in the West Sea.I let the thick morning wind from the northwest caress my skin over and over again.My heart is always filled with emotion.To the west, I came to Ili again; two hundred years ago, a woman from Jeherenye died on the banks of the Ili River.I finally got down on my knees before such a man—I had a sense of comfort that day at last.I went eastward until I reached the Songhua River, experiencing the hardships of being exiled step by step.I have visited more than 20 religious sects, and consulted many great people lurking in the public.I joyfully feel my transformation, the new self is now firm and silent. Around Gongbei everywhere - the tomb of the saints, Jehrenya and many other sects value Gongbei and saints, and believe that saints exist as intermediaries between the people and Allah - the Jehrenya sect I got acquainted with There are more and more Muslims.After Ma Zhiwen introduced me to them, his rough black and red face turned into countless faces of all kinds, scrambling to tell me. They fascinate me deeply, pull me by force, seduce me.That first moment came without understanding—I didn't realize that the moment the Almighty Creator had planned for my life's turning point had come true. I sank into this sea. I became one of them. Seduction is great.I listened to their stories; I heard the touching story of how a Chinese dared to sacrifice at least half a million people in two hundred years for the sake of a pure heart.Among the Chinese people whose nature is to survive, I actually broke into a group of victims.I was shocked to the bone. They shone like phantoms in my eyes.They carried me like waves.They are lively, honest and honest, just thinking about them is already a kind of enjoyment.They have a collective name in Jehrenya - Dosdani.This word is the plural of "Dosdani-friends" commonly used by Chinese Hui people; for me, Dosdani is the people at the bottom of China who are not afraid of sacrifice and stick to their hearts. Is it possible to generalize Dosdani? Every one of them is powerful and radiant because they are in this group of hundreds of thousands of people.Hundreds of thousands of them live shockingly because they are insisting on a kind of spirit. I can only try—in this spirit, as the hero of my life's work. Literature, art, learning, knowledge—I am excited for myself when I alone push these concepts back to their original intentions, when I ask hard about their original meaning.Walking on such a road is like diving into a black hole, and you will feel dizzy after getting out of prison.Allowing my writing to subsume deep taboos, allowing my sincerity to sublimate into belief, allowing my actions to take on the form of a Dosdani—I am thrilled at what I have achieved. I have made this final resolution.In terms of words I had previously found on a hunch, I embarked on my final journey.There will be no more meaningful struggles, no better opportunities, and no more articles that can unite with the people at the bottom.The Hui people call the decision with religious meaning "juyi" or "Juyetie" (Nie pronunciation kneading sound) - I Juyi, this is the first and final Nietie: to be a pen of Zhaherenye, Write a book they'd risk their lives to protect! ——There was such a thing: after the failure of the Haigu Zheherenye Uprising, it was in 1940.The Kuomintang's expedition to the mountainous area found out that Master Ma Guorui, the leader of the uprising, had been hiding in a small villa.Studying and teaching there—the small villa is in Guyuan, called Shuanglingou, and the teacher and doctor live in the home of a man named Ma Tiancai.Ma Tiantian joined the uprising, and the women and dolls at home guarded the two wooden boxes of books that the master often read.Later, the officers and soldiers heard that the master used to live and study here, so they sent troops to search Ma Tiancai's house.At that time, the woman was chopping vegetables, and when she saw the officers and soldiers swarming in, she raised her kitchen knife and began to chop.One of the soldiers was cut down by her, and she also died under the knife.The officers and soldiers destroyed her home, but they did not find the two boxes of books. Forty years later, Zhehe Renye was able to make it public.The descendants of this family found Master Guorui's posthumous daughter, Aunt Organ, and formally returned the two wooden boxes of books to her. Last year, I saw and browsed these two wooden box books.The wooden box is very old, and most of the books are moldy and yellow.I can't express how moved I am.I think only these books are happy. This incident left a deep impression on me, maybe it gave me a strong stimulus.I couldn't get rid of the shadow of those books.I have also written a few books, dipped in the painstaking efforts that others do not know.But I don't see readers defending me, only seeing them walk away without keeping their promises. After I have made a choice about my own life, I cannot but yearn for the reader's choice. When I noticed that my old readers easily abandoned me and went to the bookstalls to find entertainment, I firmly identified my real reader, the reader who would not betray—Zhehe Renye. When I think that this book will be cherished and protected by hundreds of thousands of people, my heart is filled with happiness.This is the original, the writer's happiness.To win it, any price is worth it, any pain is bearable. I raised my mind. The Northwest, especially the Zheherenye Hui people warmly welcomed me.Three or four internal works written in Arabic and Persian that have been kept secret for them have been translated into Chinese for me.A large-scale investigation began quietly, and nearly 160 family history and religious documents were delivered to me.All secrets are opened to me, countless villages are waiting for me to live in.The students in the mosque (Manla) competed to be my secretary, leaving my young wife to accompany me to search for ancient sites.When I was in trouble, especially after I resigned and became a pen, the imams (heads of mosques) who were highly respected and well-known in all directions wrote letters in Chinese for the first time, sending me comfort and encouragement.I am famous again - this time it is impossible for any celebrity to imagine, but I am trying my best to pursue the fame; from Xihaigu to Qingtongxia, from Gansu to Xinjiang, the farmers in the mountains and rivers are half-accurate legends My story, I tasted joy, pride and happiness like never before. There is nothing more worthy of devotion.There is only this light in my heart.My choice, my acme, and my limit are all in this one thing.In the autumn of 1989, I calmed down and started my life Ermali. Ermai, Muslims generally refer to some kind of religious homework, referring to "dry".For a pious Ermai, even a chicken used for the sacrament of the Jeherenye Muslims must be tied up and fed with clean water and food for a month.In the past two hundred years, they have often combined sacrifices in battle with Ermeri.Compared with ordinary daily religious life (worship, chanting, etc.), this concept often has a heavier weight.When I picked up the pen, I never felt that the pen could be so heavy. Form, my personal form as a pen, has determined the form of my work. A pursuit of the human heart has created an awe-inspiring humanitarian spirit.This kind of humanism that can live in poverty in the backcountry, but insist on a spiritual world, has created a kind of people like a rocky forest.Such a people surrounds their leader, the saint, and is called "Mulshid".Hundreds of thousands of people have divided their stories into the time of Muleshid from generation to generation.Therefore—I take their form as my own, and divide this book into seven generations; the stories of each generation use the style of the inner secret script writer of Zhehe Renye, and call them "gates" instead of chapters. or department. There are a total of seven gates, which outline half of the stories of the Zheherenye Hui people.Contemporary and future stories, maybe I don't have the strength to continue.There is another intention in this work of my life, that is to call out, I call out to the 400,000 children of the Jeherenye people and the younger generation.My blood is dying, my banner is faded and broken.I could only carve out a vague outline of this rocky forest.The rest is up to you, brothers. And you - I have not forgotten you, my Han, Mongolian, and all my invisible followers.I haven't forgotten you for a single moment.I write in Chinese, I am in Beijing, and I am far away from my Zheherenye—maybe it is you who directly help me. You can't think that I have abandoned you just because you saw me walking into the sand ditch filled with yellow dust. No, it should not be thought that I am describing only religion.What I have been describing are only the ideals you have been pursuing.Yes, ideals, hopes, pursuits—these things that are neglected by the world but loved by us.I will also formally describe the humanism I have finally found; you will find after reading that this kind of humanism is far more genuine than those cheap auctions of those intellectuals in China. I borrow a touch of yellow from the Northwest, and I rely on a piece of loess from the Northwest.I tell a story of Hui nationality and various other races.But people, I care more about you, and I long to find humanity with you. I finally wrote about my mother family. But you should testify that there is no narrowness here. It contains people, being a human being, their circumstances, their spiritual world and the society, humanity and humanity that surround them.Here is a piece of human splendor that will move you. You don't find this brilliance anywhere and anytime. In 1987, when I visited the headquarters of the International Jewish Organization in New York, USA, they were surprised by the visit of a Chinese Muslim.I once said at the time: Only the dispersal and suffering of the Jews is similar to the situation of the Hui people in China. Perhaps Judah is a reference for the Hui people in China. Later, when I wrote to my Jewish friends abroad, I had just returned from my beloved Northwest for the eighth time, and the writing of this book was ready.My heart is clogged with feelings for Zheherenye's tragic story.I wrote: Perhaps, for proof, the Lord chose the Jews in Europe.The Lord also chose the Hui people in China for the sake of proof. These words only show that I hate narrow-mindedness. When you read some emotional passages in my book, I don't want you to be weirdly alienated.That's because the Zheherenye people have paid too much for the inviolability of their spiritual world, and their silence is too unbearable.The story of Zhehe Renye that I will tell you is actually an inspiration for your pursuit of ideals, humanitarianism and spiritual freedom.You can gain experience and decide future choices. For me—for me who you have been silently following since River of the North—this book is the pinnacle of my literature.I dare not say - I will have more works than this book.Even I'm still thinking about using this book as a full stop to end my literature. As for the slogan I yelled out in 1978 without restraint—the three words "for the people" that were ridiculed by others, I can already say without shame: I have completely admired it.This is a constraint on you; now I have kept my promise, and I have not broken my promise. In order for you——the world other than Zhehe Renye to read more fluently, I tried to introduce some common sense in this preface.But, after all, this is the first narration of a long silence; after all, this is the first time a secret is revealed, and it will still feel a little obscure when reading.I have used quite a few quotations, because they are the secret notes of some great writers outside the literary world, and it would be a pity not to quote them.For this book, Zhehe Renye took out all the secrets—not even when Lu Xun was alive; they didn’t even take out Gu Jiegang when he lived in Gansu; they didn’t even take out Fan Changjiang’s home when he visited them. . Hundreds of thousands of people in Jeherenye and I are waiting for you.We place our true expectations on you—Han people, Jews, and all people who value their hearts.Discover the blunted sensibility, recall the mysterious moments that have disappeared, face up to the love and humanity you often talk about-understand us. The vast Loess Plateau and the Great Northwest are opening to you.welcome.Superficiality and tourism are going away, and you feel like you've caught an insight.Come in, get used to the arid and harsh landscape, and endure the rigors of exercise.That wish you have been harboring will come true, and you will be flesh and blood. Taking my book as a map, when you return from the Great Northwest eight times and Xihaigu ten times, you will feel that you have participated in my creation.I believe that when you wipe off the sweat alkali and yellow dust on your forehead and savor my work again, you will find that it has been perfected by your participation. ——At that time, you not only felt that you touched my heart, but also felt that you touched the heart of Daxibei.My feelings, your feelings, the feelings of the fallen martyrs--will collide.The shock of that moment cannot be described.I firmly believe that a moment that is hard to buy.I adore it.Future humans will envy us for this.They will feel: In the world, there is no more precious emotion than this one. Zhang Chengzhi June 20, 1990