Chen Yuan's narration was too calm, filled with words of hatred, yet his tone remained flat.

　　"Hold on," I interrupted, "you previously mentioned that you had an argument with Zhou Hongxing on the road, harbored resentment, followed him, and killed him. But now you're saying that it wasn't a chance encounter, and you had planned to kill him all along?"

　　"When I killed someone and disposed of the body, there were witnesses. But when it comes to the argument between Zhou Hongxing and me, are there any eyewitnesses? No," Chen Yuan chuckled. "So, I can talk about the argument as if it happened, as Zhou Hongxing never had the chance to speak."

　　"So, the real motive for killing Zhou Hongxing was actually to seek revenge for the childhood sexual abuse you suffered," I realized. "In that case, it seems reasonable for you to have killed Ma Ming as well. It wasn't just because of an argument, but because Ma Ming molested children, awakening painful memories from your childhood, so you killed him."

　　"Yes," Chen Yuan confirmed.

　　Furthermore, I recalled that since Chen Yuan's imprisonment, he had only contacted one male friend, which made us suspicious of his homosexual tendencies. This also seemed plausible because many acquired homosexuals had experiences of same-sex molestation during their childhood, forcibly altering their sexual orientation.

　　However, stepping out of this story and thinking carefully...

　　Placed in such a scenario, with the Xishan Execution Ground, a male friend, a homogeneous motive for murder, two victims, and one death row inmate, everything seemed too logical. It felt like a novel based on real circumstances, with a storyline that followed all the right logic, and he was the martyr protagonist.

　　"The story you told is indeed heartbreaking. However, please stop fabricating stories," I grew a bit impatient. "I'm asking you, do you have any evidence of Zhou Hongxing sexually abusing you in your childhood? Zhou Hongxing's son despises you, and you claim he was your elementary school classmate, but in reality, he doesn't know you at all. Of course, you can explain that your appearance changed significantly as you grew up, but shouldn't your name leave an impression?"

　　Chen Yuan dismissed it, saying, "I barely remember the names of my elementary school classmates..."

　　I interrupted, "I understand your psychology. Some criminals, just like you, have nothing better to do than to fabricate stories, invent facts to defame the victims, embellish their own lives, and rationalize the crimes they committed, as if the whole world has betrayed them. That's why you are deprived of your political rights for life, to prevent you from spouting such baseless fabrications. If you are so innocent and wronged, why didn't you take proper measures earlier? Why is it only now that you are 'protesting'?"

　　Chen Yuan remained silent, pondered for a moment, and then firmly insisted, "What I'm saying is the truth. If you don't believe me, there's nothing I can do."

　　"Suppose what you're saying is true. Then why did you previously explain the motives for the two murders as 'arguments,' and why are you revealing these so-called facts now?" I questioned, "Why say it outside the courtroom instead of during the trial? Why here, at the execution ground?"

　　"I can't answer that for now," Chen Yuan replied. "The story isn't over yet."

　　"Then continue your story."

　　But suddenly, I felt like I had missed some crucial details.