Qin Yongpei: One of My Experiences at Litang Prison

On the day of the second-instance verdict on January 4, 2024, I issued a stern threat to the presiding judge in court, clearly telling him: As soon as the judgment takes effect, send me to prison immediately, and I may let you off in the future; otherwise, I will exhaust every legal means to send you to prison as well.

In fact, I had already been held in solitary confinement for more than four years. Serving my sentence in prison was precisely what I had always wanted. I actively requested to be sent to prison because I wanted to experience the reality inside firsthand and gain an in-depth understanding of the unknown dark secrets.

On the morning of January 18, 2024, five police officers from the Guangxi Department of State Security drove an old Buick commercial vehicle and escorted me from the detention center to Litang Prison. We set out at around 8:30 a.m., and the journey took nearly two hours. What surprised me was that I was not handcuffed at all during the entire journey! Neither when I had previously gone to court each time nor while being transferred from the detention center had I ever been handcuffed. The police officers did not say much in the vehicle, only saying that it was a matter of discipline. It was not until we were nearing the prison that they relaxed and began chatting with me, as if they were merely completing an ordinary task. At that moment, I felt a mixture of emotions—how was this like escorting a prisoner? It was more like an absurd “journey.” I was angry and felt deeply humiliated and powerless, but at the same time I also had a trace of anticipation: finally, I could go inside and see the truth of the prison with my own eyes.

When we arrived at Litang Prison, it was during the period of pandemic controls. As soon as I walked through the prison gate, I saw a middle-aged inmate wearing a yellow vest and carrying a sprayer walk over accompanied by two prison guards, and spray a little disinfectant on me. We then entered the First Prison District, where we happened to encounter approximately 800 inmates standing in neat formation, listening to a prison guard’s lecture.

The inmate wearing the yellow vest demanded on the spot that I squat down in front of the 800 people, but I did not comply. Immediately afterward, Qin Shijun, the head of the First Prison District, surrounded me with several prison guards. Waving a baton, he shouted hoarsely and ordered me to squat down, and in front of everyone he demanded that I remove every item of clothing I was wearing, one by one, until I was completely naked! At that moment, I felt extremely humiliated and angry, as if my dignity were being brutally trampled underfoot. It was only later that I realized that the middle-aged man in the yellow vest had looked extremely troubled; I understood that he was also an inmate. So as not to put him in a difficult position, I ultimately endured the immense humiliation, removed all my clothes, and changed into the prison uniform they threw to me. This public stripping completely constituted a serious violation of inmates’ right to privacy and personal dignity! I was so furious that I felt I could almost explode, yet I was helpless.

It was around 1 p.m. at the time. Qin Shijun slammed a plate of food down in front of me with a “bang.” The plate contained only one egg and two already-yellowed leaves of vegetables, looking so awful that it resembled leftovers fed to a dog. I could not help challenging him: “Are you feeding a dog? I’m not eating it!” Qin Shijun and two other prison guards immediately surrounded me, waving their batons and threatening me. I shouted back: “Try hitting me! Let’s see whether you can keep wearing that dog skin!” Qin Shijun was accustomed to acting arrogantly and, in a fit of rage, threatened to deal with me on the grounds of “attacking a police officer.” I replied coldly: “Someone like you—is he worth me laying a hand on?”

It was only later that I learned that at Litang Prison, whenever any inmate encounters any police officer, they must immediately squat down in front of the police officer and loudly shout, “Hello, officer!” Only after the officer has completely passed can they stand up and continue walking. Even when several hundred inmates are walking together back to their cells or going to the cafeteria to eat, if they encounter a prison guard walking by, everyone must squat down and let the prison guard pass first. In prison, every prison guard is a genuine “emperor,” and is even more imposing than an emperor. When an officer summons an inmate for a conversation, the inmate who is called must immediately squat down like a dog and report: “Convict XX reporting to the officer. Please instruct me.”

As for me, from the very first day I entered the prison, I have never paid any attention to this routine of theirs, and I have absolutely never squatted down in front of them.

The reality in prison is this cruel: Many inmates who were officials at the department or bureau level outside, when facing any ordinary prison guard, are not even as good as dogs. It was then that I truly discovered that Litang Prison today remains stuck in the state of several decades ago, centered on savagery and violence, and is extremely far from a modern civilized prison. No wonder more than 30 percent of the inmates at this prison are repeat offenders. This prison is not reforming criminals; it is creating more criminals.

Why do so many inmates wear yellow vests? It was only later that I understood that these inmates wearing yellow vests were just like the “puppet troops” who served the aggressors during Japan’s invasion of China, acting as accomplices and tools of the prison administrators and being used specifically to deal with other inmates.

That evening, 75 inmates sent from other places and I were collectively quarantined for seven days, and only after seven days were we assigned rooms. It was said that during the quarantine we had to memorize the prison regulations; inmates who could not recite them after seven days could only eat plain rice and would be made to stand as punishment. That is a matter for later.

My heart bled throughout that entire day. Being humiliated so severely and having my dignity trampled in public immediately upon entering the prison filled me with anger and disappointment toward this place’s “management.” At the same time, I secretly told myself: Since I have come here, I will see and remember everything here clearly. I will use my own eyes to record the prison’s dark secrets, stroke by stroke.

Qin Yongpei, January 18, 2024, First Prison District of Litang Prison