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

She sang a very simple lyric:

Someone is waiting for you to come home.

Her voice was gentle, yet it was like a blade slicing through the night.

The man in white robes suddenly knelt down, and the black musical notes shattered with a deafening roar!

"No...no...I can't go back...there's nothing left there..."

“Yes.” Xiaoman approached step by step. “She didn’t leave. She’s still singing. Just like my mother, just like Grandma Lin, just like Chen Mo… Their voices have never stopped.”

Su Ting's zither music intertwined with her singing, and the phantom reached out and gently stroked the face of the white-robed man.

He looked up, and tears streamed down his cold eyes for the first time.

"I...I want to hear her sing...I want...to hear her sing again..."

The entire cave began to collapse.

The chains of the pronuclear core snapped, and the azure core trembled violently, emitting a mournful hum.

"Xiaoman!" Duoduo shouted, "The door is closing! You only have one chance! Go in, or—we'll all be buried here!"

The gray-haired boy picked up his drum and roared, "I'll sing with you until the very last second! Come on! Let this wretched place collapse!"

Su Ting turned around, looked at Xiao Man, and said softly, "Go. The destination isn't behind the door, it's in your heart."

Xiaoman gave them a deep look, then turned around and walked step by step toward the open door.

Her vocal nucleus merged completely with her mother's white nucleus, and the light cascaded down like the Milky Way.

Just as she was about to step into the door—

The man in the white robe suddenly looked up, his voice hoarse yet clear:

"Ask her for me."

Xiaoman (Grain Buds) stops.

"Does she...hate me?"

The cave trembled violently, and gravel fell like rain.

Xiaoman didn't turn around, but whispered:

"Wouldn't it be better if you asked her yourself?"

She stepped in.

The door slowly closed behind her.

The world fell into dead silence.

The next second—

A clear, melodious cry resounded throughout the heavens and earth.

It was like a baby's first cry, or like an ancient echo awakening.

Chapter 1427 The True Voice

The ground cracked open, and a beam of light shot into the sky, piercing through the clouds.

The gray child froze: "This...this is..."

Duoduo looked up, tears streaming down her face: "It's a voice... the real voice... it's back."

Su Ting looked up at the pillar of light and murmured softly:

"Xiaoman, who do you want to sing for now?"

The beam of light pierced the sky like a sharp sword, the earth trembled, and a long-lost frequency began to echo in the air—the rhythm of heartbeats and breaths, the whisper of the wind sweeping across the mountain ridges, and the soft sound of raindrops falling into the lake.

The sound has returned.

But this time, it was no longer suppressed, nor was it plundered. It was free, spreading like wildfire, igniting every inch of parched land.

The gray child knelt on the ground, his hands trembling as he pressed them to the floor, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "This...this isn't a hallucination...the drum...my drum is making a sound! It's making a sound by itself without me hitting it hard!"

The old war drum trembled slightly with the pulse of the earth, emitting a deep and powerful "thump, thump" sound, like the breath of some ancient life.

Duoduo opened her arms, tears streaming down her face. She looked up at the cracked sky, her voice choked with sobs: "Mom...Mom? Can you hear me? Can you hear me?"

Her voice wasn't loud, but the instant she finished speaking, a withered old tree in the distance suddenly cracked open with a "crack," and a faint yet clear female voice came from deep within the tree trunk:

"I heard it... my Duo'er... you finally... sang so beautifully..."

Duoduo suddenly covered her mouth, trembling all over.

"Mom...Mom!" She rushed over, hugged the withered tree, and cried uncontrollably, "I'm sorry...I'm so sorry...I never dared to sing...I was afraid that if I sang, you would be gone forever...But Xiaoman said...only by singing will you not disappear..."

The voice from the tree trunk chuckled gently: "Silly child...we've never gone far, you just couldn't hear us. Now...it's alright...we're all awake."

Su Ting stood quietly, his guqin playing a melody that had never been recorded before, without any strings. He closed his eyes, a smile playing on his lips.

"Grandma Lin," he said softly, "are you there?"

After a moment of silence, the instrument trembled slightly, and an aged yet kind voice flowed out along the wood grain:

"You brat, you finally dared to call me 'Master'? I thought you were going to keep that word stuck in your throat."

Su Ting's nose stung with tears, and he grinned, "You... don't blame me for running away back then?"

"Escape?" Granny Lin snorted. "That's awakening. I'm just a guide. A true singer has to break free from the hell in their throat."

He opened his eyes and looked toward the center of the pillar of light—where space was distorting and a blurry figure was slowly emerging.

Grain Full.

She floated in the air, draped in a robe formed from sound waves, her hair flowing like a river of stars, her eyes closed, yet a serene smile played on her lips. At her chest, the two cores had completely merged, blue and white intertwining to form a yin-yang symbol, slowly rotating.

“She…is talking to the protocore,” Duoduo murmured.

“Not only that.” The gray child looked up, his eyes burning with passion. “She’s rewriting the rules.”

Suddenly, Xiaoman's lips moved.

A voice, belonging to no one, yet seemingly emanating from all those who have ever lost their voice—

"I am not here to inherit silence."

I'm here to end it.

The moment the words left his mouth, the heavens and earth roared.

Countless beams of light rose from the ground, connecting to the sky, like harp strings piercing the clouds. Within each beam of light emerged a figure—a sacrificial singer, a bard forced to have his throat sealed, a folk artist killed by a silent military knife…

Chapter 1428 How Does It Still Exist?

They had no physical form, yet they spoke in unison, singing a song unknown to anyone, but etched deep within their souls.

Su Ting was stunned.

"This is... 'The Poems of the Mute'? The legendary first song erased by the protocore... How does it still exist?"

“Because the roots haven’t been severed.” Grandma Lin’s voice came from the zither. “As long as there is one person willing to sing, the song will not die. What Xiaoman did was not to awaken it—she replanted the ‘song’ back into the soil of the world.”

Duoduo wiped her face, then suddenly turned to look at Gray: "Hey, haven't you always said you're a great drummer? Now's your chance!"

The gray-haired boy grinned, hoisted the drum onto his shoulder, and charged towards the beam of light: "You should have said so earlier!"

"Wait for me!" Duoduo took off chasing after him, shouting back, "Su Ting, what are you standing there for?! Let's play the ensemble!"

Su Ting smiled, his ten fingers flew across the strings, and the music flowed out like a surging tide.

The next instant, the drums exploded, colliding with the piano notes and creating a thousand waves of sound. Duoduo opened her throat and sang loudly; her voice was no longer childish, but filled with a power that transcended time.

The three stood beneath the bridge of light, becoming a new fulcrum of harmony.

At an even higher place, Xiaoman slowly opened her eyes.

She looked down, saw them, and a slight smile appeared on her lips.

Then, her gaze turned to the distance—the wasteland that was once known as the "Silent Domain".

That place should have been barren and lifeless for thousands of years.

But at this moment, a stone tablet is rising from the ground, its surface covered with cracks, as if it has been forcibly pierced by some force.

Xiaoman's eyes narrowed.

That's...my mother's gravestone?

No, it's not just tombstones.

The inscription on the stele is a line of text that is slowly changing:

"When I am asleep, please listen to me."

When you sing, please open your eyes for me.

When you cry, please remember—

I never truly left.