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

“It’s here,” he whispered. “It’s not a person, nor a ghost… it’s the drum itself that’s making the sound.”

The clouds on the horizon completely broke apart.

A giant drum slowly descended from the void.

It was entirely black, with the drumhead made of some kind of grayish-white leather, the patterns of which were faintly visible—it was not animal skin, but a human face that had been peeled off, the features distorted, the mouth wide open, as if the last cry before death had been frozen forever.

The drum is wrapped with iron chains, and each chain is engraved with a name—all of them singers, musicians, and drummers who were once "missing" in history.

At the very top, a line of blood-red text appeared:

"The silent ones are the inheritors."

"Holy crap...who came up with this aesthetic?" The gray-haired boy took a step back. "I'm playing drums for fun, not to create a funeral art exhibition!"

"Shut up." Duoduo stared at the face, her face pale. "I recognize this face...it's 'Old String.' Thirty years ago, the last wandering musician to play the piano publicly. He...he didn't disappear, he was skinned alive by the 'Silent Society'!"

"So this drum... is made from the singer's skin?" Su Ting's voice turned cold.

“More than that.” Xiaoman stepped forward slowly, her gaze sharp as a knife. “It is forged from ‘the voice that has been taken from us.’ Whoever rings it will inherit the silence of all the dead—and become the new Lord of the Cleansing Way.”

"Let whoever wants to play it!" Gray Boy threw down the drumsticks. "I'm not doing this despicable business!"

“But someone has already started knocking.” Xiaoman looked up and stared at the top of the drum.

Sure enough, a dark figure slowly emerged from behind the drum.

It was a thin child, about eleven or twelve years old, barefoot, wearing tattered linen clothes, and holding a bone drumstick in his hand.

His face was expressionless, his eyes were empty, like a marionette.

"A child?!" Duoduo exclaimed in shock. "Who let such a young child touch something like this?!"

“It wasn’t anyone who told him to come,” Xiaoman said softly. “He came on his own.”

The child slowly raised the drumstick and pointed it at Xiaoman.

His lips didn't move, but a hoarse voice came from the drumhead, as if a thousand people were speaking in unison:

"You say voices shouldn't be silenced... but if voices only bring pain, why should they exist?"

Xiaoman paused for a moment, then smiled.

“You’ve been fed too much nonsense.” She stepped forward lightly. “Who told you that sound brings pain? Is it because you’ve heard too much crying that you think the world is just filled with tears?”

The child remained cold: "I was born at the bottom of the deepest pit in the land of the mute. The day my mother gave birth to me, her tongue was cut out. For the three years I learned to speak, I relied entirely on the vibrations in her throat. Later, she died, and only then did I realize... that people can laugh."

Xiaoman felt a jolt in her heart.

So you hate sound?

"No." The child finally spoke, his voice tender yet heavy, "I hate that only crying can be heard, while smiling... is always silent."

Xiaoman slowly squatted down to look him in the eye.

"What do you want to hear?"

The child was stunned.

“Tell me.” Xiaoman held out her hand. “If you could make any sound right now—not one that’s forced upon you by this drum, not one that someone else taught you, but one that you yourself want to hear… what would you make?”

The child looked down at the drumstick in his hand, his fingers trembling slightly.

a long time.

He gently, gently, placed the drumstick horizontally on the drumhead.

Then, he knelt on one knee and pushed the drumsticks out.

“I won’t knock.” His voice was soft but clear. “I want… to hear people sing.”

Chapter 1434 I'm Here Too

Everyone fell silent.

Even the wind has stopped.

Su Ting suddenly smiled, and with a light touch of his fingers, a note like a dewdrop rolling off a zither string gently resonated.

Duoduo took a breath, opened her mouth, and sang a simple syllable: "Ah—"

Clear and warm, like the first rays of dawn.

The gray-haired boy scratched his head, then suddenly grinned and said, "I'm in too!"

He picked up the drumsticks, but instead of striking the drum, he gently tapped the ground with the edge of the drum.

Click, click, click.

Like a heartbeat, like footsteps, like raindrops falling on the eaves.

Xiaoman closed her eyes, and her voice flowed out slowly:

"The sound of stars falling into the water... is tinkling, is ripples, is a child laughing."

The child stared at them blankly, and suddenly, a tear slid down his cheek.

In that very instant—

"laugh!!!"

The giant drum emitted a piercing, mournful cry. The human face on the drum surface twisted violently, its mouth opening and closing wildly, but no sound came out!

"No—!!!" The blood-red characters suddenly burst into flames, turning into black smoke. "The successor has appeared! The drums will sound! Order... cannot... be defied—!"

"Shut up."

Xiaoman opened her eyes, her voice not loud, but as loud as a thunderclap.

She stood up and walked step by step toward the giant drum.

"You say the successor has appeared? But look—"

She pointed to the kneeling child, to Duoduo's singing, to Su Ting's piano, and to the gray child's out-of-tune drumbeats.

"The inheritors of the voice are never one person. They are everyone who dares to speak and everyone who is willing to listen."

She raised her hand and gently touched the drumhead with her fingertips.

"And you... are nothing but a piece of rotten skin fed on fear."

"boom--!!!"

The drumhead suddenly shattered! The human face let out a final, silent scream before turning to ashes and scattering in the wind.

The iron chains snapped inch by inch, and the giant drum crashed to the ground, shattering into countless fragments.

The sky cleared up again.

The child looked up at Xiaoman, her voice trembling, "Can...can I learn to sing?"

Xiaoman smiled and extended her hand to him: "Of course. First lesson—you can swear if you want, I'm listening."

The child paused for a moment, then suddenly burst into laughter through tears: "I...I wanted to say...the rice ball is hidden under the rock on the left, don't take it!"

Everyone was taken aback for a moment, then burst into laughter.

The gray child jumped up: "Holy crap! This kid is so stingy! He even goes to great lengths to hide his food!"

“That’s more like it.” Xiaoman pulled the child to his feet and blinked. “He can hide rice balls and guard against thieves. He’ll definitely be a good singer in the future—cunning and clever.”

Su Ting stepped forward and handed the zither to the child: "Here, listen to a tune first."

The child cautiously touched the strings.

"Ding--"

A clear, resonant note echoed gently between heaven and earth.

In the distance, another bird took flight, chirping as it soared across the clear sky.

And at this moment——

Xiaoman suddenly looked up, her eyes sharpening.

In the wind.

A place that is extremely far and deep.

Another drumbeat slowly approached.

It's not provocation, it's not anger.

It's like a sigh.

A sound... came from underground.

A slow smile spread across her lips.

"interesting."

She turned around, looked at the crowd, and her eyes shone.

"Did you hear that?"

The gray child pricked up his ears and frowned: "What? There's nothing but bird calls."