只为道出真相------ （英文版，格丘山下一排排的树的序言）

今天出版的这本英文书，以我的中文著作《葛秋山下的树行》为基础，并增补了《生存》一书中几篇未曾发表的文章。因此，本书的内容比中文原版《葛秋山下的树行》更为丰富，但又不及即将出版的《生存》那样详尽全面。

我写作的初衷是描绘真相——即我的族群、国家、人民、社会与故土的深层内涵与真实面貌。同时，我也借此记录自己对人生与自然的感悟，记述我之所见，并分享我的思考。

我希望自己的著作能如实记录我所身处的时代。我始终认为，人们对同一真相的感知因性格与思想深度的不同而各异。换言之，即便意图还原真相，同一事件在不同作者笔下也可能呈现出截然不同的面貌。若作家的目的是粉饰政权，或其创作受制于严苛的审查制度，那么其笔下的文字往往便与事实真相毫无关联了。

我对中国的感情经历了一番演变：从孩童时期的热爱，到因受骗与被操弄而产生的觉醒与愤怒；而在游历世界、见证众生百态之后，那份恨意逐渐消退。我转而重新审视其历史与哲学，探寻其得以存续的深层缘由。

然而，对于一位致力于探求真相的作家而言，身处当今时代可谓举步维艰——这种艰难程度，恐怕超过了世界上任何其他国家或中国历史上的任何时期。所有的出版资源均被共产党的审查体制所垄断，该体制要求作家歌颂政权。我既不愿与之为敌，也不愿沦为他们的工具，将写作变成阿谀奉承的手段。我只愿描绘我所见的真相，诉说我想说的话。这迫使我不得不身兼作家与出版人双重角色，在海外社会寻找狭窄的路径，脱离共产党的体制框架进行自主出版。

于是，在极度艰难的环境下，我尽己所能——尽可能多地写作，尽可能设法出版。至于作品的命运如何，我不得而知。正如那句老话所言： “只管耕耘，莫问收获。”最令我深受鼓舞的是我的读者，他们不断激励我笔耕不辍。

例如： 亲爱的葛秋山（或黄先生）： 非常感谢您！ 请继续写作。只要您的思想化作文字，发布在网上或印成书籍，它们便能长存，并让后人有机会触及真相。这意义重大，尤其是在当今这个历史被蓄意抹杀与粉饰的时代。 我必须郑重地告诉您：作为一名依然珍视文字与图书馆价值的普通海外华人读者，您的真诚与人性光辉深深打动了我。在长年只读英文读物之后，正是您的作品重新点燃了我对中国文学的兴趣。谢谢您！ 请坚持下去！ 康安

我收到过许多类似的来信，在Twitter（推特）、CND及其他海外华人网络平台上，也常能看到这样的鼓励之辞。这便是我坚持写作的力量源泉。令我备受鼓舞的还有一件事：我自费出版的中文书在海外竟售出了数百册——对于海外自费出版而言，这已是相当可观的成绩。

多年来，我一直盼望自己的书能被译成英文，因为唯有如此，它们才能获得更广阔的生存空间。然而，知名译者往往对自费出版的作品不屑一顾，而普通译者的收费又高得惊人。很长一段时间里，我只能寄希望于某种神迹降临。

但我始终坚信这是可能的，毕竟我迄今为止的人生，本身就是一场奇迹。 “老骥伏枥，志在千里。” 如今，随着人工智能时代的到来，我多年的夙愿终于得以实现。这便是本书诞生的缘起。

“总有一阵清风，能助我圆那八千里路云和月的梦想。” Preface: Simply to Speak the Truth    This English book being published today is based on the Chinese book of the same name, The Rows of Trees Below Ge Qiushan, supplemented with a few unpublished articles from Survival. Thus, its content exceeds that of the original Chinese The Rows of Trees Below Ge Qiushan but is less comprehensive than the forthcoming Survival.    The purpose of my writing is to portray the truth—the depth and true face of my ethnicity, nation, people, society, and homeland. At the same time I write to capture my reflections from human life and nature, to document everything I have observed, and to share my thoughts.    I hope my books can truthfully recount the era I lived in. I have always believed that people perceive the same truth differently, depending on their character and intellectual depth. In other words, the same event may appear entirely different when written by different people—even assuming they intend to portray its true nature. If a writer's purpose is to flatter a regime or their work is bound by strict censorship, then their writing will likely have no connection to the actual subject matter.    My feelings toward China evolved from the love of a child to the awakening and anger of being deceived and manipulated. After traveling the world and witnessing humanity, the hatred gradually faded. I turned back to reinterpret its history and philosophy, searching for deeper reasons for its survival.    But for a writer committed to truth, living in this era is immensely difficult—arguably harder than in any other nation or any historical period in China. All publishing resources are monopolized by the Communist Party's censorship system, which requires writers to glorify the regime. I neither wish to oppose them nor become their tool, turning my writing into a means of praise. I only wish to depict the truth I have observed and say what I want to say. This leaves me no choice but to act as both writer and publisher, finding narrow paths to self-publish outside the Communist framework in foreign societies.    Thus, under extreme difficulty, I do what I can—writing as much as I can, publishing however I can. The fate of what I write is unknown. As the saying goes: "Just focus on the work, and don't worry about the harvest."    What encourages me most are my readers, who constantly inspire me to continue writing. For example: Dear Ge Qiushan / Mr. Huang, Thank you so much! Please keep writing. As long as your thoughts are turned into words, posted online, or printed into books, they will live on and provide future generations a chance to access the truth. This is of great importance, especially in an era where history is deliberately erased and glorified. I must solemnly tell you that, as an ordinary overseas Chinese reader who still believes in the value of texts and libraries, your sincerity and humanity resonate deeply with me. It was your works that rekindled my interest in Chinese literature after years of reading only English. Thank you! Please persevere! Kang An    I have received many similar letters, and on platforms like Twitter, CND, and other overseas Chinese networks, I often see such words of encouragement. This is the strength that keeps me writing. I am also motivated by the surprising fact that my self-published Chinese books have sold hundreds of copies overseas—an impressive achievement for self-publishing abroad.    For years, I hoped my books could be translated into English, as only then would they gain more space for survival. However, renowned translators disdain self-published works, and ordinary translators charge exorbitant fees. For a long time, I have placed my hope in divine miracles.    I still believe it is possible, for my entire life to this point has been nothing short of a miracle.    "An old steed in the stable still dreams of galloping a thousand miles."    Now, with the advent of artificial intelligence, my long-cherished wish has finally come true. This is the origin of this book.    "There will always be a breeze to fulfill my dreams of eight thousand miles."