"Criminal suspect Guo Jianjun, male, Han Chinese, thirty-three years old, born November 11, 1975. Suspected of organizing and leading ** crimes; intentional homicide; intentional assault; intentional arson; intentional robbery; intentional **; illegal possession of firearms; intentional bombing; intentional **; intentional **; illegal possession of narcotics; smuggling; molesting women; coercing and organizing **; illegal gambling; extortion; bribery; illegal detention; disrupting financial order. For the above twenty-one charges, both witness testimony and physical evidence are complete. Following a public trial, the charges have been established. After deliberation by the collegial panel, this court now pronounces judgment."
Having said this, the judge looked around. Only after seeing the spectators rise did he lower his head to the verdict in his hand and read, "The criminal suspect, Guo Jianjun, is sentenced to death and deprived of ** rights for life. This judgment is final and may not be appealed. It shall be carried out immediately. GD Province High People's Court, April 4, 2008. Court adjourned!"
Inside the solemn courtroom, the spectators immediately burst into enthusiastic applause and cheers. Someone shouted, "Rid the people of this scourge!" The judges at the bench filed out in turn.
The defendant below stood in the dock, dressed in prison garb with a shaved head. Two armed police officers, fully armed, seized his arms and escorted him out. Heavy handcuffs and shackles bound his hands and feet, dragging across the floor with a clattering scrape.
Though his steps were slow and heavy, and though he had already been sentenced to immediate execution, he did not carry the lifeless gloom of an ordinary prisoner facing death. Instead, the corners of his mouth were lifted, and a faint smile remained there all along.
At the doorway, brilliant sunlight shone upon his shaved head. Guo Jianjun stopped and took a deep breath. Warmth rose in his heart, and suddenly he felt as though he had been reborn. Even the icy handcuffs clenched in his hands seemed to carry a trace of warmth. His gaze fell upon the crowd of ordinary people surrounding him.
"Is this Guo Jianjun? He doesn't look like a bad man! How could someone so young fail to stay on the right path?" An elderly woman with snow-white hair, perhaps because her eyesight had grown poor with age, stared at Guo Jianjun with all her might, trying to see clearly what this notorious, utterly wicked man looked like. Other people surged shoulder to shoulder as well. Camera flashes crackled endlessly in the reporters' hands. Unfortunately, the circle of armed police would not let them get close.
Guo Jianjun gave the elderly woman a deep bow. The white-haired woman cried out, "Child, remember to be a good person in your next life!"
Guo Jianjun smiled. An armed police officer behind him gave him a shove. Staggering, he stepped down the stairs. The prison van waiting there had already opened its rear doors. Several armed police officers shoved him into the back and climbed in after him. The door shut, and the siren wailed. Under the gazes of the crowd, the convoy of several vehicles roared out through the courthouse gates.
The convoy drove toward the outskirts. An armed police officer who looked like a middle-aged military officer, wearing two bars and one star, studied Guo Jianjun across from him. In today's terms, Guo Jianjun should have been considered a fairly handsome young man. If not for his current attire, no one would have guessed that he was a death-row prisoner guilty of every evil under the sun. What could have driven such a man to this point?
Watching the streetscape flash past outside the window, Guo Jianjun seemed to sense the gaze opposite him. He turned and smiled at the officer. "Big brother! Can you give me a cigarette?"
The middle-aged officer had carried out such missions many times, but this man's expression and behavior did not resemble someone about to die. He immediately grew wary and scrutinized the prisoner across from him. The armed police soldiers on either side also fixed their eyes on him in unison, their fingers touching their triggers.
Guo Jianjun gave a bitter smile and shook his head. "This isn't some Hong Kong or Taiwanese cops-and-robbers movie. Are you really afraid I'll escape? Or afraid someone will come hijack the prison van? I'm already like this—how is that possible? This is the Communist Party's territory. In China, there aren't many people who would dare do something like that..."
Yet no matter what he said, the armed police officers remained silent, watching his every move with utmost vigilance.
"Ah! It's just one cigarette. Why make things so tense?" Guo Jianjun's eyes swept over their shoulder insignia and collar badges before turning back to the window. With a sigh, he said, "Back then, I was a soldier too. I carried a gun, earned merit, received awards, shed blood, and sweated!"
The officer and soldiers were all somewhat surprised by his words. The officer's guarded expression eased, and the soldiers unconsciously moved their fingers away from the triggers.
The officer looked Guo Jianjun up and down, paused, and finally asked, "You were a soldier too? Armed police or People's Liberation Army?"
"The latter." Guo Jianjun turned back with a smile. After a brief hesitation, the officer took out a pack of cigarettes, lit one, and carefully handed it to Guo Jianjun. Guo Jianjun thanked him, held the cigarette between his fingers, put it to his lips, and took a deep drag before exhaling.
Meeting the questioning gaze of the man before him, Guo Jianjun slowly said, "I enlisted in '93, infantry. I spent three years on the border. After being discharged, I returned to my rural hometown. There were only my old mother and father at home—no brothers or sisters. But when I got back, I learned that my father had died from illness in my second year in the army because there had been no money to treat him. He had hoped I would make something of myself in the military and didn't want me burdened in spirit, so before he died, he told my mother not to tell me. When I came home, my father was gone, and my mother was bedridden with illness. Grief was grief, but the living still had to go on living, and my mother's illness still needed treatment. Yet the discharge pay and allowances I'd saved came to less than three thousand yuan. After taking my mother into the city for all kinds of examinations and buying a little medicine, the money was nearly gone. With help from my comrades and fellow villagers, we scraped together enough to get my mother admitted to the hospital. But hospitalization costs were far too high for rural people like us. We simply couldn't afford them. So I entrusted my mother to a comrade in the city and headed south to find work, hoping to earn money for her treatment." By then, the cigarette he had taken only two drags from had burned down to the butt. It scorched his fingers and fell into the van.
A leather-shoed foot stretched over and crushed out the cigarette butt. The officer took out another cigarette, lit it, and handed it to Guo Jianjun. "Continue."
"Thanks." Guo Jianjun raised his cuffed hands, pressed his mouth close, and took a hard drag. He continued, "After arriving in that city, a fellow villager helped me find work as a laborer at a construction site. Every day, I carried bricks up and down floors and hauled cement. Eight hundred yuan a month, food and lodging included, with wages paid every six months. It was bitter and exhausting, but for someone like me who came from the infantry, it was nothing. Back then, eight hundred yuan a month was enough to cover half a year's income for a rural family like ours. Heh! Six months later, the buildings at the site had gone up. But when it came time to pay us, the boss had vanished. A whole group of workers had come from other places to work there. In a place where we knew neither people nor roads, where could we go to demand our wages? We went to the local government, but they said there was nothing they could do. After going a few more times, they wouldn't even let us through the government gates. In the end, it could only be left unresolved. My mother's illness was still waiting for money, and I had no skills, so I found another construction site and kept selling my labor. Heh! And then I ran into the same thing again—working without ever getting paid."
"Why didn't you file a complaint?" the officer asked with a frown. The young armed police soldiers had also been drawn in by this death-row prisoner's story. They stared at him curiously, never having imagined that the famous Guo Jianjun had once done such work.
"File a complaint?" Guo Jianjun took a drag and sneered. "Brother, you've spent too long in the army. Back then, it wasn't like it is now. It was useless no matter who you complained to. Now there's no choice—even the national premier has come out to demand wages for migrant workers, which is why there's such a thing as filing complaints. Back then? Go ahead and try it."
The middle-aged officer looked slightly embarrassed. He took the cigarette butt from the prisoner's hand, tossed it down, and crushed it out. Then he lit another and handed it over, asking curtly, "What happened after?"
"Hmph! After? My mother's condition worsened, and she desperately needed money for surgery. My comrade, in order to pay for her treatment, even sold his own house. Houses were cheap back then! It only sold for a few tens of thousands of yuan. If it were now, the price would have increased tenfold. In the end, the money from selling the house was nearly spent too. I was pushed to the brink. Then I ran into the boss who owed me wages. Not only did I fail to get my pay, he called over a group of people and had them beat me up. Dragging myself around covered in injuries, I got angry too. I contacted several old comrades and told them everything. I wanted revenge. Heh! Worthy indeed of brothers who had once lived and died together with me on the border. They all came. After we discussed it, we kidnapped that boss and extorted one million yuan from him. We threatened him too—if he dared report it, we'd kill his whole family. That boss was timid, and he really didn't report it." Guo Jianjun smiled.
"You came from the military. How could you do something so knowingly illegal?" The officer shook his head.
"Unfortunately, by the time I got the money, it was too late. My mother passed away before the money reached her." Guo Jianjun's voice sank. Then he suddenly looked at the officer, agitated. "And what if I came from the military? If this were the War of Resistance Against Japan, I could cast away my head and spill my blood for the country without a moment's hesitation. Everyone talks about protecting home and defending the nation, protecting home and defending the nation. But I couldn't even protect my own parents, so what was the point of clinging to a soldier's faith? Go look now—what sort of people are enjoying those places dripping with gold and drowning in luxury? Ordinary soldiers who protect home and defend the nation, or ordinary common folk?"
"Is that your reason for betraying the country and harming national interests? Have you forgotten that line in your military oath... that the interests of the nation and the people stand above all else?" The officer grew emotional as well. The armed police soldiers inside the van stared at the two men in astonishment. It was their first time encountering something like this during a mission.
"Harming national interests, perhaps! But saying I betrayed the country is too much. I ask that you take those words back. These years, I, Guo Jianjun, have dared to do anything, except betray my country—the kind of thing only Han traitors could do. I can bear any charge, but never the charge of being a Han traitor. If I have to carry that charge before I die, then I truly will not rest in peace." Guo Jianjun stared at the man opposite him with a cold smile.
The officer sneered as well. "Dealing drugs with foreign **, smuggling arms, harming Chinese people. How is that any different from treason?"
"Heh! What do you know?" Guo Jianjun tossed away the cigarette butt and held out his hand again. "Give me another cigarette. Damn it! I admitted every crime in court today. Never thought I'd have to argue with you here."
"Guo Jianjun, I'm all ears. Let's hear what fine flowers you can spin!" With that, the officer personally shoved a lit cigarette heavily into his mouth.
Guo Jianjun pulled the cigarette, more than half of it stuffed into his mouth, back out between his lips. He shot the officer a look and, amid clouds of smoke, said, "If I didn't do these things, someone else would. But it was different when I did them. So long as I, Guo Jianjun, was in GD Province, this place was my turf, and foreign underground forces could forget about entering. Do you think those foreigners blown to death at Hualian Villa were really tourists? They were contacts sent to open up China's drug market. Since drugs couldn't be banned in the short term, I took over that business. Only by truly controlling it in my own hands could I ensure drugs would not flood GD Province. Do you think the state truly didn't know about all the bad things I did? If I had really done something that betrayed the country, would I have lived until today to be sentenced to death? Just the things you can see on the surface are enough to kill me more than a dozen times over. Unfortunately, I was duped over the Hualian Villa incident. The international impact it caused was too great! Now that I'm dead, I'm afraid some people will be laughing behind closed doors."
Several armed police soldiers did not quite understand what Guo Jianjun meant. The middle-aged officer, however, had calmed down. He looked at Guo Jianjun thoughtfully for a while, then slowly asked, "Do you regret ending up where you are today?"
"Regret?" Guo Jianjun laughed loudly. "Can life be regretted? Is regret useful? Everyone who walks this road knows that if you come out to make your way in the underworld, sooner or later you have to pay the price. It's only a matter of sooner or later. At worst, eighteen years from now, I'll be a good man again."
"Eighteen years from now, you'll be a good man again?" The officer could not help laughing. "Have you read too many wuxia novels?"
"Heh! Not too many, not too few. Oh, right, let me recommend a place for reading novels. Qidian Chinese Network. Go take a look when you have time. There are quite a lot of novels there." Guo Jianjun said.
The middle-aged officer gave an oh and shook his head. "Thanks, but I'm not interested in reading novels."
The prison van began to jolt, clearly having reached the wilderness outside the city. The destination was not far away. Guo Jianjun glanced at the armed police soldier seated in the innermost corner. That soldier had worn a black hood the entire time and had never taken it off. Guo Jianjun could not help asking the officer, "Will that brother be the one to send me on my way later?"
The officer nodded and said nothing more. Guo Jianjun called out to the black-hooded armed police soldier, "Brother! I'm counting on you! Keep your hand steady later and give your big brother a quick death." But no one responded to him again, perhaps because they were nearly at their destination.
With death approaching, Guo Jianjun leaned his head against the wall of the van and swayed with its movement, filled with emotion. Yesterday's splendor was like a dream; beauties in his arms, one on each side, had in the blink of an eye become passing clouds and fleeting smoke. An old song came to mind, and he could not help murmuring, "Last night's, last night's stars, have fallen, vanished into the distant Milky Way. I try to remember, yet have already forgotten..."
The van slowed and came to an abrupt stop.
Guo Jianjun was dragged out of the vehicle. He looked up at the sky, now thick with dark clouds, where lightning flickered faintly and thunder rumbled. After the Public Security officers conferred with the armed police, they pushed him to the designated execution site.
The executioner chambered a bullet. The black muzzle aimed at the prisoner, and a finger settled against the trigger. Just as it was about to pull, a thunderclap exploded overhead. Guo Jianjun, who had already closed his eyes, suddenly opened them and looked up. A bolt of purple lightning struck down from above. His entire body went numb, and he gradually lost consciousness. Before his awareness dispersed, he asked himself, Am I truly so guilty that I deserve to be struck by heaven and thunder?
The death-row prisoner's body instantly blackened and smoked as it fell. The Public Security officers and armed police present were all stunned. After the commander came to his senses, he called for the forensic examiner to inspect the body. A moment later, the examiner stood and shook his head. "He's dead!"
Standing before the already indistinct corpse, the commander looked at the camera ahead and thought, Good thing it was recorded. Otherwise, this would be impossible to explain. He then took the executioner's gun, pressed it against the corpse's heart, and Bang! fired an additional shot. Muttering to himself, he said, "You were executed according to law, not struck by lightning!"