MTL - Monument of Life and Death-Chapter 996 bone pen

   Chapter 996 Bone Pen

   After the baby finished speaking, he went straight out through the door.

   Outside the door is the corridor of the tent. At the corner of the corridor there is a gramophone that seems to be out of use for a long time. Wu Ren leaned lazily beside the gramophone. Seeing them come out, she yawned and waved at them.

   "I'm all sleepy," Wu Ren's voice sounded like a baby, "Are you sleeping?"

   "Where are you in the mood to sleep?" the fool muttered.

  Xiaolan probed into the small living room at the entrance of the tent, "Laomu is gone?"

   "Of course he's gone, everything is over, why is he staying here?" Wu Ren pouted, "Should I wait for me to invite him to breakfast?"

   "Things... all finished?" Ling Luo said cautiously.

   "It's over," Wu Ren sighed meaningfully, "but we didn't get along."

"what?"

"It's just that there are differences of opinion," Wu Ren translated, "but it's not the first time for us to do this. You may not know that the old wood is an old pedant. He will object to everything I want, and I hate it to death... …”

   "So... what are you going to do?" Xiaolan asked.

   Wu Ren waved his small hand, "Of course it killed all those who were involved in the trouble. Wouldn't this problem be solved directly? It also reduced a lot of work load for me..."

  It's terrible, this woman.

   I have never seen a **** who so longed for the death of his people.

   "It's not that Laomu is pedantic," Qin Yin whispered secretly, "it only means that he is a normal person... a normal god."

   "Little God, stop joking," Bao Bao said to Wu Ren with a smile when he saw everyone was frightened, "You will frighten them."

   Wu Ren looked at the stunned faces and laughed out loud.

   "You really believe it... oh, you are so funny."

   is not fun at all.

  Xiaolan's face was pulled down immediately.

   "Think about it, I'm a god, how could I make such a request?" Wu Ren crossed his arms and looked at them happily.

   Oh, so you understand that.

   "So what did you mention?" Xiaolan asked.

   "Of course I can't tell you," Wu Ren said the most irritating words with the brightest expression, "This is a secret, a secret."

   Xiaolan tried to restrain herself so as not to roll her eyes.

   "But you seem to be in a good mood," Qin Yin said. "When your conversation first started, you were not in a good mood."

   Wu Ren immediately stopped smiling.

   "Do I have one?"

   "Yes," Baomu nodded obediently, "and obviously."

   "That's because I ate snail noodles," Wu Ren said stubbornly, "I like snail noodles very much."

   "You've almost finished digesting the snail powder in your stomach, are you happy now?" Qin Yin teased.

   "...Do you want to be kicked out?"

   "Sorry, we were wrong," everyone bowed their heads in unison, "Of course it's because of snail powder, what else could it be because of?"

   "It's almost..." Wu Ren stared at the group of cowards, and picked up his tone instantly, "It's already dawning now, and in a little while, you can leave."

   After finishing speaking, Wu Ren turned around and walked towards the wooden table in the small living room.

   "But, that painting..."

"I know, I didn't forget," Wu Ren opened a drawer and took out a roll of white paper and a pen, "You came here for that painting, I said I would give you clues today. , I never lie."

  Then you were just now...

   "It was just a joke."

   Wu Ren seemed to have heard their inner thoughts, and while explaining, handed over the things in his hand.

  The roll of white paper was the painting they brought, and the appearance of the pen was a little special.

It is a writing brush. Unlike ordinary brushes, the barrel of this brush is not straight, but has a twisted structure like a branch. Fish scale-like lines, through the pen bucket, you can see the dark hair sticking out from the depths of the pen body, forming a smooth and oily tip.

   "What is this?" Xiaolan asked.

   "This is the clue," Wu Ren stretched out his hand, his slender fingernails tapped the two items in turn, "the clue about this painting."

   "Is this picture drawn with this pen?" The fool asked, rubbing the surface of the pen.

   "Uh...I don't know about that either," Wu Ren said, "Maybe."

   "Then this..."

   "You can use it to find the owner of this painting," Wu Ren said. "If she wants to see you, she will appear."

   "What if she doesn't want to see her?" Qin Yin asked dryly, standing still.

   "Do you still need to ask this question?" Wu Ren said, "You can threaten her with this money, just say... just say you want to break it."

   "It doesn't look like it will break very well," the fool raised the pen and looked at it with the sunlight penetrating outside the tent, "and the touch is also very special... What is this made of?"

   "Which part do you ask?" Wu Ren said.

   "Well...let's talk about the pen first," said the fool, "the pen is the most special."

   "The barrel is made of bone."

  The cold wind in the early morning poured into the tent, but everyone present shivered with a chill that had nothing to do with the cold wind.

   "Ah...I see," the fool gave a stiff smile, "You're joking again, aren't you?"

   "What am I kidding?" Wu Ren looked at the fool inexplicably, "This is made of bones, can't you see?"

  Why do we see it!

   The fool's reaction was really quick, he immediately withdrew his hand and shoved the pen into Xiaolan's hand.

   "Ah! What are you doing for me, idiot?!"

   "You are a child, and a child is very yang, so you are not afraid of this."

   "I'm afraid!"

   "What's there to be afraid of?" Wu Ren looked at the crowd who were made a mess by the pen, "It's just a few phalanges."

   "Then... what about the other parts?" Xiaolan held the pen and asked out of breath, "It's also a bone?"

   "The pen bucket is made of fingernails," Wu Ren said. "Of course the head of the pen is made of hair. You can always recognize this, right?"

  Good guy, bones, nails, hair, this is a three-piece set of souvenirs that can remain in the world after death.

   "Why would someone use these things as pens?" Baomu said, covering his nose, "It's too weird."

   "Why are you covering your nose?"

   "Huh? I...I'm worried it will taste."

   "This pen has been around for many years, and it has long lost its taste," Wu Ren said, "Hey, the things have been handed over to you anyway, you can decide for yourself."

  Xiaolan looked at the pen that was standing quietly in her hand.

  Through it, you can find the owner of this painting.

   I always feel that something like an evil spirit will be summoned.

   (end of this chapter)