"Tut, tut, it was simply a work of art!"
Wang Ye looked at the masterpiece he had personally drawn on Maitreya's head and could not help but praise it.
The crooked little turtle and its four uneven legs silently conveyed something.
Maitreya had already completely entered a state of neither joy nor sorrow. Sitting cross-legged with his eyes shut, even his breathing gradually steadied, as though Wang Ye's actions had not affected him at all.
"Tell me."
"If I stripped you naked and took a nude photo."
"Wouldn't you have to watch my expression whenever you wanted to make a living in the Wasteland from now on?"
Wang Ye suddenly thought of something. His eyes lit up, and he excitedly pulled out a phone, about to start fiddling with Maitreya's clothes.
Even with Maitreya's composure, he decisively opened his eyes at that moment. His gaze was filled with cold light as he stared at Wang Ye. "Benefactor, that truly will not be necessary!"
"Oh, come on, why are you being so distant?"
"Don't worry. This is a new era, and people are pretty open-minded now. This is... this is art!"
The mighty Maitreya of Spirit Mountain—could he not devote himself to art just once?
With the attitude of I can move, and you can't, Wang Ye prepared to keep bullying Maitreya and tearing at his clothes.
Maitreya merely sighed. "Benefactor, your true body has already entered, hasn't it? You simply want to monopolize the blood and vitality. This humble monk has already sensed it, so there is no need to go this far."
"There is no need to distract me."
Hearing Maitreya's calm voice, Wang Ye slowly stopped what he was doing. He looked at him with a toothache-like expression. "You keep saying your mental strength is weak, but aren't