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

Mengli looked at Su Ting, tears welling in her eyes: "Does this count as 'what I want'?"

Su Ting nodded: "Of course it counts. And—"

He turned to the boy and extended his hand: "You're not number 404. You're the first person to step onto this new stage. So, you have to choose a name for yourself."

The boy froze, his eyes red-rimmed.

He lowered his head, then raised it again, finally mustering his courage: "I...I want to be called...'Qiming'."

“Qiming,” Mengli repeated, smiling. “It’s a very nice name.”

She held up the star-shaped pen and said softly, "Qiming, do you want to remember your mother's face—are you willing to pay a price for this dream?"

The boy bit his lip: "As long as... it won't hurt anyone, I'm willing to do anything."

“Then—” Mengli’s pen tip fell, and a beam of starlight entered the boy’s brow, “You are permitted to ‘want’.”

The boy shuddered, his eyes snapped open, and tears streamed down his face.

“I saw it…” He raised his hand, trembling, to trace the illusory figure in the air, “Mom… with two braids, dimples when she smiled… she was always waiting for me at the door after school… she said… ‘Qiming, come home for dinner’…”

He cried out, then laughed, his laughter as clear as a morning bell.

Below the stage, countless points of light began to converge—some wanted to see their deceased father one last time, some wanted to resign from their high positions to pursue painting, and some wanted to tell the person they had secretly loved for ten years, "I like you"...

The girl in the cloth skirt jumped up excitedly: "We need to take a number! We need to take a number! Next one—!"

Su Ting looked at everything before him and gently took Meng Li's hand.

"We really did it." Mengli leaned on his shoulder, her voice tired but satisfied.

“No.” Su Ting looked at the stage, which was gradually brightening, and smiled. “We just—opened the door.”

Mengli turned her head to look at him: "So what's next?"

Before Su Ting could answer, a dark crack suddenly appeared at the edge of the starry sea, as if it had been forcibly torn open by some force.

A deep, familiar laugh slowly drifted from the crack:

"You think... destroying the orbit of fate will bring you freedom?"

Mengli's expression changed: "That voice... is it the chief judge of the Heavenly Fate Division? Is he still alive?"

Su Ting pulled her behind him and said in a deep voice, "No, this voice is older... it sounds like... it comes from before the Path of Fate."

From within the crack, a pale hand slowly extends, its fingertips entwined with countless broken threads of fate.

“Three thousand years ago,” the voice echoed softly, “I buried the first person who said ‘I want’ with my own hands—now, I should bury you all…”

“Three thousand years ago, I buried the first person who said ‘I want’ with my own hands—now, I should bury you all…”

The sound was like ice seeping into the bone marrow, freezing the starry sea, and even slowing the flow of the River of Wishes. The crack continued to widen, the black mist surged, and a pale, almost transparent hand slowly emerged, its fingers long and thin, wrapped with countless broken threads of fate, each thread ending in a faint, flickering point of light—like a extinguished soul.

The girl in the cloth skirt suddenly took a step back, the Book of Heart Cores in her hand trembling violently: "That...that's the 'First Severer'! Legend has it that before the establishment of the Heavenly Mandate Bureau, he severed all dreams that deviated from their predetermined paths in the name of 'order'!"

Chapter 1247 The Arranged Dead Silence

"So it was you." Su Ting sneered, standing in front of Meng Li, his voice as steady as iron, "You are afraid of dreams not because dreams will destroy the world, but because dreams—will make people disobey."

“Clever,” the voice said slowly, as a figure stepped out of the crack. He wore a faded white robe, his face withered, his eyes empty like a starless night sky, yet within those emptiness flowed the afterimages of countless destinies. “But you forget, a world without destinies will only descend into eternal struggle. Every ‘I want’ will collide with another ‘I don’t want.’ Chaos will ultimately devour everything.”

Mengli looked up, her gaze sharp: "So what? At least it was the chaos we chose ourselves, not the deathly silence you arranged for us!"

"Arrogance." The One Who Cuts the Barrier raises his hand, the threads of fate dancing at his fingertips, spreading in all directions like spider silk. "You think that by providing a stage, everyone can dream peacefully? But what if one person's dream requires another's pain to fulfill? What if hundreds of 'I want's' tear each other apart under the same sky?"

Su Ting sneered: "Then let them tear each other apart! Let them argue! Let them fight! As long as they are **fighting for themselves**, instead of kneeling and being vilified by you for the rest of their lives!"

The one who first made the judgment slowly shook his head: "Foolish. I will reweave the trajectory of fate—this time, there will be no exceptions, no loopholes. The Book of the Heart Core will be completely annihilated."

He pressed his palm down sharply, and the threads of fate surged toward the stage like a tidal wave—

"No!" Mengli raised her stardust pen high, starlight gathering at its tip. "The rules of the stage still apply! Whoever steps onto the stage is responsible for their own dream! Qiming! Do you still remember your dream?!"

Young Qiming suddenly looked up, tears still wet on his face, but a flame ignited in his eyes: "I...remember! I want to remember my mother! I don't want to be erased again!"

He held up the crumpled piece of paper, his voice growing stronger as he spoke, "I **want**! I **want**! I **want**—to remember her!"

boom--!

A burst of pure starlight erupted from his chest, forming a barrier that forcefully blocked the erosion of the threads of fate.

The novice's pupils contracted: "How is this possible... a modified experimental subject can actually support his own destiny?"

“Because he has a name now.” Su Ting chuckled. “He’s no longer number 404, he’s Qiming—the first person to ignite the flame of his own dream.”

"Ridiculous," the one who first made the judgment sneered. "One person's fire cannot illuminate the abyss."

Before he finished speaking, a second light appeared.

"I **want to** it!" A middle-aged man stepped onto the stage, his eyes red and swollen. "I want to tell my dead son that I am not the father who abandoned him for his career! I want to tell him... I regret it!"

A third light appeared.

“I want to!” An elderly woman with white hair walked up shakily. “I want to dance the dance I didn’t finish when I was young—not for the audience, but for myself!”

The fourth, the fifth, the tenth...

One after another, points of light rose up and converged on the stage. Every voice was different, every "I want" carried scars and longings, yet they did not conflict or suppress each other, but rather, like galaxies converging, they shone brightly upon each other.

The Book of Heart Cores opened automatically in the girl's dress, revealing page after page the images of these "I want" thoughts, which were then imprinted on the stage as runes.

Chapter 1248 False Freedom

The novice roared, "You are creating an illusion! A false freedom! When they discover their dreams cannot be realized, they will only sink into deeper suffering!"

"Then let them suffer!" Mengli glared at him. "But their suffering must be their own, not a false peace bestowed upon them by you!"

Su Ting suddenly laughed: "Do you know why your destiny always needs to be suppressed? Because the human heart should never be locked up."

He turned to look at Qiming: "Can you still hold on?"

Qiming gritted his teeth, tears still streaming down his face, but he straightened his back: "I can hold on! As long as... as long as they don't take away my dream!"

“Okay.” Su Ting looked up at the endless sea of ​​stars. “Since he can hold on, then we—let’s make the stage even bigger.”

He suddenly reached out and tore his sleeve, his fingertips slicing across his arm, blood dripping down.

"Su Ting!" Meng Li exclaimed.

"Don't stop me," he smiled. "I also have something I want to say."

His blood dripped onto the Star Bridge, transforming into a scarlet rune that spread rapidly: "I want—all the deleted names to be mentioned again!"

boom!

The Star Bridge trembled, and countless fragments of long-forgotten memories emerged from the void: erased names, burned diaries, files marked as "invalid lives" by the system... falling like snowflakes.

The girl in the cloth skirt jumped up excitedly: "He sacrificed his own blood for the stage! Quick, the Book of Heart Cores can absorb these memories!"

She turned the pages, and the fragments poured into the book like moths to a flame. The pages shone brightly and began to write new chapters on their own.

The one who had just made the judgment finally changed his expression: "You... dare to sacrifice your dreams with blood?! This is not order, this is madness—"

"Madness?" Su Ting sneered, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth. "Compared to you imprisoning billions of people with the Chains of Life and Death for three thousand years, what is our little bit of madness?"

Mengli took a deep breath and also raised her hand to cut her fingertip, letting blood drip down: "I want—all the actors hiding behind the scenes to be able to stand in the light."

Her blood mingled with Su Ting's blood, transforming into a golden pattern that wrapped around the stardust pen.

The pen hums, like a dragon awakening.

The stage suddenly expanded, suspended atop the sea of ​​stars, like a newly born sun. The glowing of the edge inscriptions intensified.

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 one who had just broken through roared and waved his hand as if to tear the stage apart—

But at that moment, a faint yet clear voice rang out.

"I...I also want to go on stage."

Everyone was startled.

The speaker was a young man dressed in the robes of a law enforcer from the Heavenly Destiny Bureau. He stood at the edge of the Star Bridge, his face showing struggle, fear, and yet also determination.

"You are... a law enforcement officer?" Mengli frowned.

The young man lowered his head: "I have carried out 'order purification' for seven years and deleted 327 'dangerous dreams'... But last night, I dreamed that I was running in fire, with cries and screams behind me. I... I'm starting to have doubts."

He raised his head, tears welling in his eyes: "I want to...live for myself for once. Not for fate, not for destiny, but for...myself."

silence.

Qiming looked at him and suddenly asked, "Then... in the dreams you deleted, was there a mother I wanted to remember?"

The young man shuddered, his face turning deathly pale: "I...I don't remember who it was...but...but I executed a memory erasure order...on the 'lower-gene family'..."

Qiming remained silent, his fists clenched.