Wu Pangzi pointed at the pen, the fat on his face trembling along with his finger.
His mouth was open, yet he could not get a single word out.
Su Mo looked at Wu Pangzi's face, black with anger, and the pen whose words poured out like a river, then silently took two steps back.
This pen was far too uncanny. It had actually evaded Su Mo's Divine Sense and crept close unnoticed.
If the pen had harbored any ill intent just now, he would probably have fallen victim to it too.
"You damned pen! Eavesdropping behind people's backs-have you no shame?"
At last, amid the pen's tirade, Wu Pangzi recovered enough to point at it and curse, his expression full of grief and indignation.
"Shame? You mean face?" The pen paused at his words, hopped down from the boulder, and floated in front of Wu Pangzi.
"Has lard blinded your eyes?"
"Take a good look. Where does your Pen Lord have a face?"
Wu Pangzi was struck speechless, and his eyes actually reddened...
A pen... really did not have a face.
Su Mo said nothing, merely keeping his guard up with utmost care.
Unable to find anything to say for the moment, Wu Pangzi turned to Su Mo.
Su Mo blinked, unwilling to draw the flames onto himself.
Seeing Wu Pangzi look toward Su Mo, the pen also turned toward the white-robed Su Mo. Seemingly sensing something strange, it suddenly floated before him, as though scrutinizing him.
Under the pen's scrutiny, Su Mo suddenly felt his hair stand on end.
"Interesting... interesting..."
The pen slowly circled Su Mo, scanning him from head to toe.
"You actually have two Fate Patterns. Oh, these Three Questions are even more interesting. Can you unravel them?"
Seeing that Su Mo had drawn the