Courtyard House: My Long and Hard Body Makes Me Play with All the Women in the Courtyard

Mengli slowly took a step forward, her voice soft yet unyielding: "Then let go. Not all dreams should come true, but all dreams—should be heard."

Heaven, in its lawful will, closes its eyes; the bamboo slips are reduced to ashes, scattered by the wind.

His figure gradually faded away, and his last words drifted away with the wind: "If dreams can truly end... perhaps... I should also take a nap."

The starlight flowed again, the river of wishes surged on, and the crack in the sky did not close, but slowly unfolded, like a newly opened eye.

The girl in the cloth skirt closed the Book of Heart Core, skipped over to Su Ting and Meng Li, and looked up to ask, "So... are we going to write the ending now?"

"No," Mengli shook her head with a smile, "the show has only just begun."

Su Ting took her hand and looked at the world that was being rebuilt: "What we are writing is not the ending. It is—the opening of the next play."

"So..." the girl tilted her head, turning the page of her book, "What do you want to act out?"

Su Ting and Meng Li exchanged a smile.

“We want to,” they said in unison, “perform a play—one that anyone can do.”

From the depths of the starry sea, the first gong sounded.

The stage curtain slowly rose; no one knew how long the play would last, but everyone heard it—

A child timidly uttered the first line: "I...I want to try."

The wind swept across the newly formed stage, stirring a rose-colored curtain.

In the distance, a familiar figure stood silently at the end of the Star Bridge, holding a newly formed star-sand pen in his hand, and murmured to himself:

"This time... I'll write what they want to say."

The figure slowly stepped onto the star bridge, the tip of her pen lightly touching the void, and a glimmer of light, like a seed planted in the soil, quietly took root. She wore the most ordinary cloth dress, a withered rose tucked into her hair; she was the girl who had just held up the book—yet at this moment, her eyes held a weariness and tenderness that had settled over a thousand years.

Chapter 1244 You demolished the old stage

Su Ting suddenly turned his head, as if he had sensed something.

"What's wrong?" Mengli noticed his strangeness and followed his gaze. She saw a figure slowly walking towards her at the end of the Star Bridge, his pace unhurried, as if he had walked through countless reincarnations.

“She…is not the same child as before,” Su Ting said in a low voice.

Mengli narrowed her eyes, the starry sea reflected in her pupils: "But the pen in her hand... is the design of the first Star Sand Pen. Legend has it that only the first 'Dream Weaver' could create such a pen."

The girl drew closer, finally stopping three steps away, and smiled slightly: "You've torn down the old stage; now, you need someone to write a new story."

"Who exactly are you?" Mengli asked warily, standing in front of Su Ting.

The girl didn't answer, but simply raised her hand slightly, the pen tip drawing an arc in the air—

In an instant, a myriad of images appeared:

A young woman sat beside the dilapidated stage, meticulously recording the tears in the eyes of the audience.

She knelt before the Heavenly Mandate Office, begging them to listen to the dreams of the people, but her pen was taken away and her name erased.

On the banks of the River of Oblivion, she used her blood as ink to secretly continue writing her forbidden wish;

Finally, she transformed into a wisp of stardust and scattered into the Book of the Heart Core...

“You are… the first person to say ‘I want’?” Su Ting’s voice trembled slightly.

The girl smiled, like a spring breeze brushing across a frozen lake: "My name is Anian. Three thousand years ago, I wanted everyone to be heard—so I wrote this book. But later, it was locked in the archive tower of the Heavenly Fate Bureau and became a 'dangerous thing'."

Mengli was stunned: "So the Book of the Heart Core... was never the root of all evil? It was... the spark?"

“Yes.” Anian looked down at the pen in her hand. “They were afraid that dreams would be too hot and burn away the order. But they forgot that without dreams, the order is just a graveyard.”

Su Ting suddenly laughed: "So you've come back now to take control of this book again?"

A-Nian shook her head: "No. I've written enough of other people's stories. This time—" She gently handed the pen to Meng Li, "I want to see how you write it."

Mengli was stunned: "Me? But I'm just an actor who ran away from a play..."

“It’s precisely because you escaped.” Anian gazed at her. “Only those who have truly broken free of their shackles know the weight of freedom.”

Su Ting turned to A Nian and asked, "What about you? Aren't you staying?"

“I should go to sleep,” she whispered, her figure beginning to become transparent. “Three thousand years have passed, and I can finally close my eyes in peace—because someone is willing to continue saying ‘I want to.’”

"Wait!" Mengli suddenly reached out, but only grasped a sliver of starlight. "You're not even leaving your name?"

Ah Nian's laughter drifted away on the wind: "Names aren't important. What's important is—"

Her final form transformed into wisps of light, scattering across the Book of Heart Core. The pages turned gently, revealing a new line of text:

I think someone else is continuing to dream for me.

silence.

Mengli looked down at the line of words, her fingers trembling slightly.

"Don't just stand there." Su Ting gently squeezed her palm. "She handed you the pen."

Mengli took a deep breath and reached out to take the stardust pen—

"Wait!" A sharp shout came from the depths of the starry sea.

A crimson figure rushed over, with long, fiery hair and golden eyes. In his hand, he held a broken chain of life, with lingering dream flames still wrapped around it.

"Who gave you permission to reopen the path of destiny without authorization?!" The woman landed with a resounding crash, and the star bridge cracked. "The Book of the Heart Core is a forbidden object! All Dream Weavers are traitors! You are inviting Chaos to descend!"

Mengli frowned: "And who are you, a god from which temple?"

Chapter 1245 Dragged into the Abyss of Chaos

"I am the 'Flame of Order,' the last guardian of destiny." The woman sneered. "The Law of Destiny has fallen, but I still remain—I swear by the broken chains of fate that I will never let you drag the world into the abyss of chaos!"

Su Ting laughed: "Is it that 'for your own good' rhetoric again? You always say Chaos is too dangerous, but the 'order' you provide is nothing more than turning everyone into puppets."

"At least puppets don't self-immolate!" the woman roared. "When you ignited the River of Wishes, did you ever consider that some dreams, once realized, would destroy even more people?!"

Mengli was silent for a moment, then suddenly asked, "Then tell me, how many people have truly lived their own lives thanks to the 'path of destiny' that you've been so desperately protecting?"

The woman paused.

"My mother wanted to hear me call her 'Mom' before she died, but fate said she was just a 'low-class cleaner,' unworthy of being remembered." Meng Li's voice was calm, yet every word was like a knife. "When I was ten, I wanted to learn to sing opera, but fate said, 'You're destined to be a substitute,' so I stood behind the scenes for ten years. You call that order? That's called—murder."

The woman's lips trembled slightly: "But... but if everyone could do whatever they wanted, the world would cease to exist."

“Existence?” Su Ting sneered. “To ‘exist’ like a walking corpse is not as good as a spectacular fire.”

He looked up at the still-open eye of the sky: "You say Chaos is scary? But the real Chaos is when everyone shuts up and doesn't even dare to dream."

The woman gripped the broken chain tightly, her knuckles turning white: "So... what do you plan to do? Let everyone run wild?"

“No.” Mengli finally took the stardust pen, its tip trembling slightly, yet as steady as a rock. “We won’t decide anyone’s fate. We’ll only do one thing—”

She turned to face the surging river of wishes, raised her star-studded pen, and her voice resounded across the starry sea:

“We’re building a stage—so that everyone who wants to speak can stand up and say, ‘I want to.’”

Su Ting stepped forward and stood beside her: "Then, let them decide for themselves whether this 'I think' is worth risking their lives for."

The woman froze, the anger in her eyes gradually subsiding, replaced by a complex emotion.

After a long while, she slowly released her grip, letting the broken chain fall onto the Star Bridge with a clear sound.

“...But you need rules,” she whispered, “even the smallest ones.”

Mengli turned around and smiled: "Of course. The first rule is—whoever goes on stage is responsible for their own dream."

Su Ting added: "The second rule is—you are not allowed to delete other people's 'I think's."

“The third rule.” Mengli raised her star-studded pen and drew the first line in the air. “If someone wants to step down, someone else must be willing to take over their dream.”

Starlight followed the pattern, quickly weaving into a massive circular stage, suspended in the center of the starry sea. Three lines of small characters were inscribed along the edge of the stage:

I thought, therefore I took the stage.

I bear the responsibility, therefore I have no regrets.

[I pass on the legacy, the dream endures.]

The girl in the cloth skirt reappeared at some point, skipping and hopping onto the stage, holding up the Book of Heart Cores: "So... who's going first now?"

As soon as he finished speaking, a faint light drifted from the depths of the starry sea.

He was a thin, ragged boy with a timid expression on his face, clutching a crumpled piece of paper tightly in his hand.

"Can...can I go up?" His voice trembled.

"Of course." Mengli nodded gently. "What's your name?"

The boy lowered his head: "Nobody calls me by my name... they all call me 'Subject 404'."

Su Ting frowned: "Experimental subject? Which organization?"

Chapter 1246 Memory Modification Bureau

"Memory Modification Bureau." The boy unfolded the paper with trembling hands. "I...I want to remember what my mother looks like. They said my mother was a 'low-grade gene carrier,' so they erased my memories...but I still...want to remember..."

There was silence.