Chen Yuan's Account (2) — I used to peep at the execution ground every day.

　　My mother knew about this, and it was her intention.

　　In fact, it wasn't because my mother found a job at the machinery factory that we had to move here.

　　The cause and effect were mixed up.

　　My mother chose to work here because she knew there was an execution ground and wanted to move here.

　　The factory dormitory has become our third home.

　　When I was young, I was smart and well-behaved, loved by everyone, and the pride of my parents.

　　But starting from the second grade of elementary school, my character gradually became dark.

　　I began to bully my classmates frequently.

　　At first, I would just lock them in the abandoned storage room and watch everyone anxiously searching for them.

　　By the fifth grade, I was directly sending people to the hospital with concussions.

　　My parents apologized and compensated countless times, spending a lot of money.

　　Parents and teachers took turns educating me, but I just couldn't change.

　　My mother cried night after night, saying how well-behaved I used to be and why I turned out like this.

　　Did Mom and Dad do something wrong? Every time my father was called by the teacher, he would come back and beat me fiercely with a belt, then make me stand for the whole night as punishment.

　　The last time, he beat me particularly ruthlessly, and I curled up on the ground unable to move.

　　But at a certain moment when our eyes met, he stopped.

　　He suddenly felt scared and said that sooner or later, I would kill him.

　　Soon after, my father left and never came back.

　　In the fifth grade, I was persuaded to leave school.

　　Because I had a notorious reputation, no other school nearby dared to admit me.

　　My mother had no choice but to move us away from that area.

　　My mother understood the principle of Meng's mother's three relocations and brought me to a university near the city, hoping that I would be influenced by civilization.

　　At the new school, the teachers liked me because I had good grades and was polite and obedient.

　　My mother also thought that I had finally changed for the better and breathed a sigh of relief.

　　But it was all the result of my skilled disguise.

　　In less than two years, when I entered middle school, I almost kidnapped the neighboring female college student together with traffickers.

　　The woman's boyfriend refused to give up and came to my school to cause trouble.

　　The teacher called me to confront him, and I had a hidden dagger in my pocket, nearly causing a catastrophe.

　　My mother kneeled in the principal's office, begging the principal to forgive me.

　　The principal was resolute in his attitude.

　　He said that I had no moral values and upbringing, and that a child with such bad behavior would eventually cause trouble.

　　The school couldn't bear the consequences and told my mother to take care of herself.

　　And then I was expelled again.

　　My mother had a serious illness, and after recovering, she seemed much clearer.

　　She took me and moved again, to this place.

　　It's the dormitory building on the far west side of the Second Machinery Factory in Xishan, right next to the Xishan Execution Ground.

　　Other workers' families avoid it.

　　Anyone unfortunate enough to have such a "scenic view" property would cover the windows with wooden boards, permanently closing them to avoid accidentally seeing things they shouldn't.

　　My mother took similar measures, but she used newspapers, which not only sealed the windows but also allowed light to come in.

　　And the windows covered with newspapers could still be opened.

　　She even made a flower stand outside my room window and placed a red pottery pot on it, growing an orchid.

　　Every morning, she would water or trim it while bowing her head and avoiding looking into the distance.

　　But she would leave the window slightly open for ventilation, so that I could directly observe the execution scene as soon as I woke up.

　　I understood my mother's intentions.

　　She knew that positive influence wouldn't work, so she chose reverse education, showing me how the bad guys were executed, hoping that I could empathize and be afraid, thus restraining myself and becoming a good person.

　　At first, I was truly deterred by the execution and became a well-behaved student again.

　　But only I knew that I was in great pain inside, struggling to suppress my desire to commit evil, and even beginning to self-harm in agony.

　　My arms and legs were covered in self-inflicted scars, and my mentality was on the verge of collapse.

　　It's not easy to restrain oneself from committing crimes.

　　Dr.

　　Lu, take a look.