After a moment of consideration, Zhao Yuan said, "You have to write the confession, but you can't mention the Paper Mache Man and Xiaoyang."
"Then what should I write?" Mage Zhang asked.
Zhao Yuan shrugged, tossing the problem back to Mage Zhang. "How you write it is your business; I don't care. But I must remind you of one thing: it has to be plausible. I'm going to review this confession when you're done. If I'm not satisfied, I'll have you rewrite it again and again. Don't forget, you still have needles in you. Every three minutes, they'll give you a nice, long bout of agonizing itching!"
At the mention of agonizing itching, Mage Zhang couldn't help but shiver. 'If mental curses could kill,' he thought, 'Zhao Yuan would be dead twenty times over by now.'
Mage Zhang sighed and accepted his fate. Brows furrowed, he chewed on the end of his pen, pondering what on earth he should write.
