Chen Yuan's Narration (1) -

　　Outside is Xishan Execution Ground, a place I'm very familiar with because my family used to live nearby.

　　Now returning here feels like coming home, almost a kind of "accepting death willingly."

　　In 1995, I was 15 years old and in my second year of middle school.

　　My mother brought me here, to the dormitories of the Second Mechanical Factory in Xishan County.

　　That area is now abandoned.

　　Our dormitory building was in the last row, right next to Xishan Execution Ground, separated by a wire fence and a row of cedars.

　　But looking out from the window, you could still catch a glimpse of the execution ground through the trees.

　　Every morning at six o'clock, after I got up, I would take out the telescope and observe the execution site.

　　Early in the morning, with the sun still on the other side of the hill, the whole execution ground was bathed in a blue morning light.

　　The death row inmates were led to the execution ground.

　　Each living person, as long as they stood on that patch of land, without exception, would hang their shoulders, with a gray and lifeless expression, as if their souls had already departed.

　　Only in the moment the gun was loaded did they suddenly wake up.

　　Some would desperately plead for their lives, some would cry and weep, some would struggle to run, and there were also many who were so scared they lost control of their bladders and bowels.

　　But in the end, they would obediently be subdued.

　　Then they would kneel on the ground, at the signal of the guards, open their mouths wide, and await the judgement from behind.

　　At the sound of the gunshot, the startled birds scattered, and the mountains and fields returned to tranquility.

　　The waiting process for the execution was agonizing, but when the time came, it was just a moment.

　　But once dead, they were truly dead, laying on the ground without any movement.

　　Regardless of whether they cried or laughed, ran or made a commotion before, they would all lie motionless on the ground, becoming lifeless bodies.

　　Their expressions were calm and serene.

　　Because Zhang opened his mouth, the bullet entered from the back of his head and exited from his mouth, so his face wouldn't be greatly damaged for the aftermath.

　　I was fifteen years old that year, and every morning when I got up, I had to take a look at the execution ground.

　　I was both afraid and curious to see it.

　　After seeing it, my whole body would tremble, and goosebumps would rise all over me.

　　It felt like that gunshot was hitting inside my head.

　　Almost every day, I would go through this gunshot and then go to school.

　　Dr.

　　Lu, isn't this kind of experience quite unique?