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

Looking at her quietly, he suddenly asked in a soft voice:

"...Sister...what should I...wear?"

There was silence.

The next second, Duoduo laughed so hard she slapped her thigh: "Holy crap! It's picky about its style?! Quietly, I'll get you a sequined suit and sunglasses, and you'll be a top star from the start!"

The gray child stroked his chin: "I think the cloak is great. It adds a lot of mystery and can also cover its semi-transparent body."

The girl smiled, raised her hand, and a beam of light transformed into a small, moon-white cloth shirt, which gently landed on Xiaosheng.

“This is… the Garment of First Voice,” she whispered, “woven from the first wisp of song heard.”

She looked down quietly at her new clothes, her fingers gently caressing the fabric. Suddenly, she looked up, her eyes shining.

[...like...being hugged...]

Xiaoman felt a lump in her throat and held its hand tightly.

“Let’s go,” she said. “Let’s go see the light.”

The group set off and stepped onto the stairs leading to the ground.

Su Ting stood there, his bone blade hanging down, his figure lonely.

The girl stopped as she walked past him.

“You can go too,” she said.

"...Why?" he asked hoarsely.

"Because you want to hear it too, right?" The girl turned around, her eyes reflecting the silver light. "You want to hear it sing the song your mother sang to you when you were little."

Su Ting was startled.

After a long while, he slowly closed his eyes and finally took a step.

The underground gate slowly opened, and light seeped in through the cracks.

Chapter 1452 I'll show you

She stood quietly at the front, clutching her ocarina tightly, the wind gently lifting the hem of her clothes.

It gazed at the light and asked softly:

"Sister, are there stars on the ground?"

Xiaoman smiled, took its hand, and walked step by step toward the light.

“Yes,” she said softly. “I’ll point it out to you when it gets dark.”

"...Then...can I...sing to the stars?"

Xiaoman paused, a gentle light welling up in her eyes. She crouched down, looking directly into Xiaosheng's eyes, which still held a hint of timidity but were now brimming with anticipation, and nodded softly.

“Of course,” she said. “Stars love listening to songs, especially… songs that have never been sung before.”

Xiaosheng's fingertips trembled slightly as he pressed the ocarina against his chest, as if he could hear something long silent within it awakening inch by inch.

Duoduo hopped to the side, pulled out a communicator flashing blue light, tapped it a few times, turned around and grinned: "Done! The National Broadcasting Network's 'Midnight Echo' program will have a ten-minute special broadcast added at the last minute. I've even come up with the title—'The Unknown Voice: First Public Release'! The listeners are wondering why the program was suddenly inserted without even a commercial break."

"The more mysterious, the better." Xiaoman stood up, patted the hem of her clothes, and said, "Let them guess."

The gray boy shook his head, pulled a rusty old horn from his tattered robe, and tossed it into the air. The horn floated up automatically and hummed loudly: "I'll be the sound controller. This thing was stolen from an ancient broadcasting tower. It can travel for miles."

The girl gently lifted the broken bell, and it moved automatically without wind, shimmering with faint light: "I swear by the lingering resentment of the first gatekeeper, today not for suppression, but for 'speaking out.' All sealed passages are temporarily unsealed, and sound can travel freely—but only for goodwill."

Su Ting lagged behind, silently following. He looked down at the old bloodstain on his palm—a mark left three hundred years ago when he first cut his blood to feed the flute. Now, the scar felt faintly hot.

At the end of the stairs was a rusty iron gate.

"We're here." Duoduo took a deep breath. "Outside is the abandoned site of an underground radio station, 20 kilometers from the city center. There's no one around, but the signal tower is intact. If we speak, half of China will hear us."

Xiaoman looked at him and whispered, "Are you ready?"

He looked down quietly at the pale white shirt, then looked up at the city neon lights that were faintly visible through the crack in the door, and nodded gently.

I want to... give it a try.

“Then push the door open.” Xiaoman took a step back. “This time, you do it.”

He quietly reached out his hand, his fingertips trembling slightly, and gently pressed it against the iron gate.

There was no roar, no vibration, only a very soft "click"—like a chain finally breaking.

The door slowly opened.

The night wind swept in, stirring up dust and memories. In the distance, city lights hung like an inverted galaxy, the sounds of traffic, voices, and the chimes of the clock tower blending into a bustling warmth.

He took a small step, and as his foot touched the ground, the illusory image solidified for a moment.

It looked up and saw the night sky.

There is no moon, but there are stars.

One, two, countless, quietly twinkling against the dark blue sky.

"...There really are...stars..." it murmured, its voice barely audible.

Xiaoman walked to its side and whispered, "They've been waiting for you."

The gray-haired boy jumped onto the half-collapsed broadcast tower, waved his hand, and the rusty horn floated to the highest point, its gray light swirling: "Signal connected, switching to national channel in three seconds—three, two, one, open!"

Chapter 1453 It actually penetrated the ionosphere

silence.

Then--

A very soft flute note rang out from Xiaosheng's lips.

Like dewdrops falling into the heart of a lake, creating gentle ripples.

The moonlight...climbs...the...wall...

It sang, its breath still weak, its tone still flawed, but this time, it no longer trembled.

The radio station was instantly filled with this sound. Countless drivers in the middle of the night slammed on their brakes; white-collar workers in office buildings stopped typing; in hospital wards, an elderly person opened their cloudy eyes; deep in alleys, a stray cat pricked up its ears.

The sound was not intrusive or oppressive; it simply fell gently into my ears, like someone humming a nursery rhyme that I had never heard before, yet was so familiar it was heartbreaking.

[Mother is singing...]

Xiaoman continued, her voice clear as a spring.

The moment the two began to sing in unison, the broadcast signal suddenly spread, not only covering the entire country but also penetrating the ionosphere and extending into the depths of the universe.

Inside the space station, the astronaut on night duty suddenly looked up: "Sir! 'Tianting-1' has received an unknown audio signal... Source... Earth's surface? But this melody... I feel like... I've heard it before when I was a child?"

On the ground, in an old house, an elderly woman with white hair suddenly sat up, tears welling in her cloudy eyes: "...Whisper...Is that you? Grandma...I've waited for you for three hundred years..."

In a corner of the city, a blind child wearing headphones suddenly looked up and exclaimed in surprise, "Mommy! I can hear colors! The sound of blue is flowing into my eyes!"

The internet exploded instantly.

"Holy crap! Who's broadcasting this? I'm crying! I don't even know why I want to cry!"

"That voice... I've seen it in my dreams! Every time I can't sleep, there's a child singing in the distance!"

"Did they call the police? Is this some kind of mental pollution? But why do I feel like laughing more and more the more I listen to it?"

"Shut up! Let me finish! It's not finished singing yet!!"

Beneath the broadcast tower, the soft singing grew steadyer and brighter.

It started experimenting with pitch changes, trying to prolong the ending notes, and even quietly added a lyric that no one had ever taught it:

[...My sister's smile...is warm...]

Xiaoman was stunned, and then her eyes welled up with tears.

She suddenly realized—this was not a retelling, not an imitation.

This is creation.

Su Ting stood at a distance, listening to the sound, his body trembling slightly uncontrollably. He closed his eyes, and for the first time in three hundred years, what he heard was no longer the wailing of calamity, but—

Lullaby.

His mother's voice, transcending time and space, overlapped with this song.

"Ah Ning... go to sleep..."

The voice was so gentle that it made his knees go weak.

He suddenly knelt down on the ground, tears streaming down his face.

"I...I want to go home..." he cried hoarsely, "I also...want to be lulled to sleep..."

The girl went over and gently helped him up.

“It’s not too late,” she said.

Just before the broadcast was about to end, the voice suddenly stopped.