The next day, Chen Yuan was escorted to the prison for execution, and as a psychological counseling teacher, I had to accompany the trip.

　　Before the execution, family members could be arranged to meet, but Chen Yuan was an orphan without any relatives.

　　Nobody had visited him before, and now, no one bid him farewell.

　　Chen Yuan's only contact was with a male friend named He Wenxi.

　　They exchanged letters every two months.

　　The letters from inmates had to be reviewed and confirmed to have normal content before being delivered.

　　Chen Yuan's letters were mainly greetings and asking about the well-being of the other person and their family, and the other person would reply in detail.

　　There was nothing particularly problematic in the content, but there was a subtle intimacy between the lines.

　　After careful consideration by colleagues in the mailroom, they noticed this subtle intimacy that seemed unlike an ordinary friendship.

　　From this, they reached a shocking conclusion.

　　But this intimate friend, He Wenxi, had never appeared in the visiting room.

　　The last reply letter was quite special; it was written by He Wenxi's wife.

　　She discovered something and questioned Chen Yuan's identity.

　　That's when we found out that He Wenxi got married recently.

　　We speculated that this was the reason for Chen Yuan's sudden madness.

　　Now Chen Yuan is wearing handcuffs and leg shackles, and he dictates his final letter to He Wenxi.

　　The letter is still ordinary with a added sentence, "no need to reply." There are two hours left until the execution, and I go to provide psychological counseling for Chen Yuan.

　　Chen Yuan's appearance can be considered gentle and well-mannered, like a scholar, but the scars and burn marks on his face add a hint of maliciousness.

　　He sits upright in the center of the cell, appearing exceptionally calm.

　　Most defiant prisoners at this stage would often regret and cry bitterly, but Chen Yuan gives me the feeling that he simply will not die.

　　I say, "Chen Yuan, there are still two hours left.

　　Are you mentally prepared and is there anything else you'd like to say?"

　　Chen Yuan says, "I'm about to die and you're concerned about my mental health.

　　It's unnecessary."

　　"This is necessary humanitarian care," but I feel that he genuinely doesn't need it.

　　"Dr.

　　Lu, I heard that you were a top student in criminal psychology.

　　Now you're doing this.

　　Isn't it a waste of your talents?"

　　I'm momentarily speechless.

　　Chen Yuan continues, "I also studied psychology, but real psychology is not as useless as this."

　　I pick up where he left off, "Then where is the use of the psychology you studied?"

　　"Do you want to know?" He pauses and says with profound meaning, "In a moment, I'll be executed and everything will be settled.

　　Such an ending is truly boring.

　　But I still want to struggle a bit—how can I change this boring outcome?"

　　"Do you still want to clear your name?"

　　"I'd rather tell you a story, Dr.

　　Lu."

　　I nod, "That's your right.

　　I'm all ears.

　　But time is running out."