Upon arriving at the ancient city detention center, the car stopped outside the large iron gate. Ouyang Xue waited in the car while Rui Xiaodan bought a pack of 555 cigarettes from a nearby shop. After showing her credentials and completing the entry procedures, she was led into the prison area by a guard, passing through two iron gates into a three-story building. The east side of the first floor housed the death row cells, now heavily guarded.
The guard brought Xiaodan to the duty room to meet with the warden.
Familiar with each other due to their regular work interactions, the warden got straight to the point: "The situation is this: yesterday afternoon, the court informed Wang Mingyang of his execution order, scheduled for 9 AM today. Wang Mingyang had long instructed not to let his family see him, nor to collect his body. He arranged his affairs with a funeral company, not even wanting to keep his ashes. Over the past eight months, he has been cooperative and hasn't caused any trouble. This morning, he requested to see you, saying you were the one who captured him. He mentioned that his gun misfired when he tried to shoot you, and he saw you kill his friend. You also interrogated him. He respects our law enforcement, and it's not an unreasonable request from a man about to die. If you can, let's grant it."
Xiaodan nodded, "I understand."
Following the guard, Xiaodan entered the second death row cell. Inside were guards, armed police, a judge, and a prosecutor. Wang Mingyang, no longer shackled but bound with ropes, sat in a chair with his legs tied, allowing only small steps, and his hands bound behind his back, rendering his arms immobile. He maintained a composed and dignified posture, his expression unnervingly calm, devoid of emotion. The atmosphere was somber and heavy, with Wang Mingyang as the focal point—an enigmatic figure known as the "Cold-faced Zhuge" in the criminal underworld, now facing his end.
Recognizing the prosecutor and judge, Xiaodan exchanged nods and smiles. A guard brought a chair for her to sit across from Wang Mingyang, whose deadened gaze softened with a trace of emotion at her arrival.
Xiaodan asked the prosecutor, "Can I give him a cigarette?"
The prosecutor nodded, "Yes."
Xiaodan handed the pack of cigarettes to the guard, who placed one in Wang Mingyang's mouth and lit it for him. Wang Mingyang took a drag and expressed his gratitude, "Thank you, thank you."
Xiaodan, unaccustomed to such heavy scenes, struggled to find the right words as she looked at the condemned man who once aimed a gun at her head.
Wang Mingyang broke the silence, speaking with the cigarette still in his mouth, "I didn't expect you to come. The warden mentioned you're on family leave—I didn't know. I'm sorry."
Xiaodan replied, "It's okay."
Wang continued, "My gun never misfires. You're the only exception. Your survival depended on that rare misfire. I watched you kill my friend, and we talked about the redemption in the Bible. In a way, that makes us comrades of life and death. So, before leaving, I wanted to see you if I had the chance."
Xiaodan said, "I don't know what to say at a time like this. You seem very calm. It's good that you're at peace."
After a pause, Wang said, "You have excellent marksmanship. I often think of the moment you fired—truly impressive. Sometimes I wonder what it feels like for a woman to end a life."
Xiaodan responded, "It's conflicting. It definitely has a psychological impact."
Wang took another drag of his cigarette and asked, "Surviving by chance, were you afraid afterward?"
Xiaodan said, "Yes, both fear and relief."
Wang said, "I've thought about something you said for a long time. I'm quite impressed. 'God is the Way, the Way follows nature, and so it is.' You summarized the essence of Christianity, Taoism, and Buddhism in one sentence. That's unusual knowledge for someone your age."
Xiaodan replied, "Honestly, I don't have that knowledge. I just pieced it together, but the principle holds."
Wang smiled faintly.
Just then, the sound of an engine revving came from outside—the execution vehicle had arrived.
A judge entered, saying, "Time's up. Prepare to transport the prisoner."
The warden approached Wang, saying, "It's time. Farewell."
Wang said to the warden, Xiaodan, and the guards, "Thank you for everything."
The guard took the cigarette from Wang's mouth, and two armed police escorted him out.
In the corridor, four death row inmates, including Wang, were led out of their cells, followed by a few reporters. Some inmates cried out, and cameras flashed continuously.
Xiaodan exited the detention center before the execution vehicle and stood by the car with Ouyang Xue, waiting for the vehicle to leave. The gate soon opened, and a convoy of police cars drove out, sirens blaring, heading towards the execution ground.
Watching them leave, Xiaodan felt a complex and heavy mix of emotions—a natural sense of compassion.