In an exclusive interview, 19-year-old Xinyi reflects on the suitcase that changed her life, her conviction, and the prospect of facing thousands of spectators—including former classmates and professors—at tomorrow's public execution.
Twenty-four hours before the sentence ordered by the nation's highest criminal court is scheduled to be carried out, the young woman whose case has divided international opinion sat quietly across a metal table inside a secure detention facility.
Wearing the same plain white T-shirt, blue jeans, white sneakers, and standard restraint system she has worn during recent official appearances, 19-year-old Xinyi spoke softly, answering questions without hesitation. Throughout nearly two hours of conversation, she remained composed, though moments of silence occasionally interrupted her responses.
Tomorrow morning, authorities plan to carry out her sentence by guillotine inside Northern Lake University's football stadium—the same campus where she spent less than a year studying Electrical and Computer Engineering before her arrest at Detroit Metropolitan Airport.
The execution, officials have said, is intended to serve as a public demonstration of the government's zero-tolerance policy toward drug trafficking.
For Xinyi, however, the stadium represents something entirely different.
"When I first arrived there, I thought it was where football games and graduation ceremonies happened," she said. "I never imagined it would become the last place people would see me."
A Life Interrupted
Born on March 18, 2006, in Hangzhou, China, Xinyi came to the United States in 2024 to pursue an engineering degree.
Friends and instructors described her as quiet, diligent, and academically focused. According to classmates interviewed during the trial, she spent long hours in engineering laboratories and rarely attended parties or large social events.
Her life changed on May 17, 2025.
Authorities say she left campus after completing her spring semester examinations, boarded an airport shuttle to Detroit Metropolitan Airport, and picked up a black suitcase from the luggage compartment.
Inside were numerous concealed packages of illegal narcotics.
Xinyi has consistently maintained that the suitcase was not hers.
The court ultimately rejected that defense, ruling that possession of the luggage under the country's strict anti-narcotics laws established criminal liability.
She was convicted of drug trafficking and sentenced to death on December 18, 2025.
"People Have Already Made Up Their Minds"
Asked whether she still believes people misunderstand what happened that day, Xinyi paused before answering.
"I know many people think I'm lying," she said. "Maybe nothing I say now changes that. The judgment has already been made."
She added that the legal process is over.
"Whether people believe me or not isn't something I can control anymore."
Facing Tomorrow
The most difficult topic, she acknowledged, is tomorrow's execution itself.
Authorities expect thousands of spectators, including members of the public. Because the venue is the university stadium where she studied, many current students, faculty members, and local residents are also expected to attend or follow the proceedings through media coverage.
When asked what it feels like knowing the event will take place at the university where she once attended lectures, she lowered her eyes briefly before responding.
"That part is difficult."
After a moment of silence, she continued.
"I used to walk across that campus carrying textbooks. Tomorrow I'll return under completely different circumstances."
Asked whether she thinks former classmates or professors might be there, she gave a small nod.
"Some probably will."
She stopped speaking for several seconds.
"I hope... if they do come, they remember there was another version of me before all this."
"I Wonder What They'll Think"
When asked whether she worries about being seen by people who knew her personally, she admitted the thought had crossed her mind many times.
"I wonder what they'll think when they see me."
She looked toward the floor before continuing.
"Will they remember working with me on lab projects? Sitting next to me in class? Or will they only remember tomorrow?"
She offered a faint smile that disappeared almost immediately.
"I don't know."
On Fear
When asked directly whether she is afraid of tomorrow, Xinyi answered quietly.
"Yes."
She did not elaborate immediately.
Several seconds passed before she continued.
"Not because it's public."
Another pause.
"Because it's the end."
Throughout the interview she maintained an even tone, though she occasionally swallowed before answering emotionally difficult questions.
Looking Back
Asked whether she regrets boarding the airport shuttle that morning in May 2025, she shook her head slightly.
"I regret what happened afterward."
She said she has replayed the day's events countless times.
"You think about every decision. Every moment."
Would she have checked the luggage tag more carefully?
"Of course."
She paused.
"I wish I had."
Messages to Classmates
If any of her fellow students are watching tomorrow, what would she want them to hear?
She answered slowly.
"Study hard."
Then she smiled faintly.
"That probably sounds like something a teacher would say."
After another pause, she became serious.
"Pay attention to ordinary moments. You don't know which ordinary day becomes the day that changes everything."
To Her Professors
Asked whether she had anything to say to faculty members who taught her during her year at Northern Lake University, she nodded.
"Thank you."
She added:
"Some professors encouraged me when I thought engineering was too difficult. I don't think they know how much that mattered."
To Her Parents
The conversation turned to her family in China. She said she worries most about them.
"Parents aren't supposed to outlive their children."
She fell silent before continuing.
"I'm sorry this became their life too."
How She Wishes to Be Remembered
Near the end of the interview, Xinyi was asked perhaps the simplest question of the afternoon:
How do you hope people remember you?
She thought for nearly half a minute.
"Not for tomorrow."
Another long pause followed.
"I hope someone remembers the student who liked solving engineering problems."
She looked briefly toward the interview room door.
"The girl who thought her biggest worry would be final exams."
Final Hours
According to prison officials, Xinyi's final family visit took place earlier today, when she met her parents in person for the first—and ultimately only—time since her arrest. Her parents had traveled from Hangzhou, China, after receiving permission to visit the detention facility. Until that meeting, all contact between them had been limited to monitored video calls during her incarceration.
Asked about seeing her parents face to face after more than a year, Xinyi lowered her head for a moment before answering.
"It felt familiar and unfamiliar at the same time," she said quietly. "When the screen was gone, it finally felt real."
She said the meeting was both comforting and painful.
"I kept thinking they had traveled so far just to say goodbye."
When asked what her parents said upon seeing her, she paused before replying.
"They told me they loved me. They asked if I had been eating enough, if I was sleeping, if I was being treated okay." A faint, bittersweet smile crossed her face. "They're still my parents. They were worried about ordinary things."
Did they talk about tomorrow? She nodded.
"Not very much."
After a long silence, she added, "There wasn't really anything left to plan. We mostly talked about home."
Asked what she said to them before the visit ended, Xinyi's voice grew quieter.
"I thanked them for everything they had done for me. I told them I was sorry."
She stopped speaking for several seconds before continuing.
"I also told them I hoped they would eventually be able to live peacefully again."
Prison officials said Xinyi's final evening differs from a routine night on death row. Following today's final family visit, she has been returned to her single-occupancy cell, where correctional staff will maintain continuous observation throughout the night. Officers assigned to the unit will conduct more frequent welfare checks than usual, and medical personnel will remain on call until the scheduled transfer the following morning.
Officials said she has been informed that no further visitors are scheduled before the execution. After the farewell with her parents earlier in the day, the remainder of the evening has been reserved for private reflection. She has been allowed to keep family photographs and personal letters in her cell until the morning, when those belongings will be collected and returned to her family.
Asked how she planned to spend her final night, Xinyi answered quietly.
"I don't think I'll sleep very much."
She said she hoped to reread the letters her parents had brought and spend time thinking about home.
"I want my last memories to be of my family, not of tomorrow."
When asked whether she expected the reality of the situation to feel different once she was alone in her cell, she paused before answering.
"The interview, the cameras, the paperwork—they keep you occupied," she said. "Tonight there won't be any of that. It'll just be me."
She added that she did not know whether she would be able to sleep.
"I think I'll probably just listen to the building. Every sound feels louder when you know it's the last night."
As the interview concluded, Xinyi stood when instructed by correctional officers. The restraints linking her wrists and ankles rattled softly as she turned toward the exit.
She thanked the reporter for listening, offered a quiet goodbye, and walked through the steel door without looking back.
Tomorrow, the stadium where she once imagined building a future will instead become the setting for its final chapter.