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Chapter 77 - Chapter 77 – When the Ground Shakes

The last bell of the day rang, but none of them moved. The classroom was drenched in that golden hour haze, where the sun slanted through the dusty windows and turned everything nostalgic. For Class 12, this was the hour between stress and silence—a time when dreams and doubts weighed equally.

Gu Yuyan was the first to stand. "Group study at the library in ten?" he asked casually, slinging his bag over one shoulder.

"Sure," Zichen replied, stretching. Tianxiue and Le Yahan both nodded. But Chen Yuke just sat there, unmoving, staring at the blank page of his notebook.

Gu Yuyan noticed. "You okay?"

Yuke blinked. "Yeah. Just tired."

But he didn't move. When the others filtered out, Yuke stayed behind. He stared at his phone for a long moment before pressing the call icon.

It rang. Then his mother picked up.

Her voice was unusually thin. "Yuke... you're still at school?"

"Yeah. Is Dad home yet? He didn't answer his phone."

There was a pause. Then she said quietly, "He's at the hospital."

Yuke stood abruptly. The chair scraped against the floor. "What?"

"He was in an accident at the construction site. A metal beam fell. He's in surgery."

Yuke didn't hear the rest. His pulse roared like a waterfall.

Twenty minutes later, he sat on a bench outside the emergency wing. The fluorescent lighting buzzed above. His mother sat beside him, gripping a cup of untouched tea. Her eyes were swollen.

"The doctors said he might not walk properly again," she whispered.

Yuke stared ahead. "He just wanted a permanent contract. That's why he took the night shifts."

Silence fell between them like snow.

The next morning, Gu Yuyan found Yuke's seat empty. No message. No warning.

When lunch came, he checked in with the others.

"He didn't reply to my texts either," Tianxiue said.

Zichen looked uneasy. "Should we go to his place?"

"Let's wait till after school," Le Yahan said, her voice calm but tight.

At 7 PM, they stood outside Yuke's apartment. It was a cramped old building, rust on the railing, worn stairs.

His mother opened the door. She looked tired, but when she saw them, something in her expression softened. "He's in his room. He hasn't come out since yesterday."

They walked in silently. Gu Yuyan knocked, then opened the door.

Yuke sat by the window, staring outside. His room was neat, but the air felt heavy.

"Hey," Gu Yuyan said gently. "We brought snacks. And a ton of revision to bother you with."

No response.

"I know you don't want to study right now," Yahan said, sitting beside him. "But maybe you don't have to be alone either."

Yuke's shoulders trembled. He didn't cry, but he looked down at his hands.

"What if I can't afford college? Even if I get in? What if I have to start working instead?"

"Then we figure it out together," Zichen said. "Apply for scholarships. Look at work-study programs. There are options."

Tianxiue pulled out a list she had printed. "I researched these. Full rides. Some even cover living expenses. You qualify."

Yuke looked at the pages. Then at them. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because we're your friends," Yuyan said simply. "And because you'd do the same for us."

Yuke looked away again. But this time, he was smiling faintly.

The next few days were hard.

Yuke split his time between the hospital and school. He looked exhausted, but he kept showing up.

During group study, he said little, but he listened. He helped where he could. When he finally contributed an idea about structuring essays, no one interrupted. They just listened.

"Your writing comes from real places," Yahan told him after one session. "That's what makes it strong."

He nodded. "I just hope that matters."

"It does," she said. "Especially now."

One afternoon, as rain tapped gently against the windows, the group gathered in the library. Gu Yuyan laid out practice test results. Le Yahan reviewed economic scenarios with Tianxiue. Zichen challenged everyone with mental math drills.

Then Chen Yuke stood up. He held a thin booklet.

"I'm submitting this to the national essay contest," he said. "It's about my father. About labor and dignity."

Everyone went quiet.

"I don't care if I win. But I want his story to be told."

Yahan got up and hugged him. No words. Just warmth.

Days passed. Pressure mounted. But something had changed.

Gu Yuyan received a letter: accepted to a summer research program in Beijing. Tianxiue's chemistry mock scores broke records. Zichen got an interview with a tech startup for post-exam internship. Yahan finalized her economics major track, her hands steady.

And Yuke? He kept writing. Between hospital visits, he revised scholarship essays, submitted articles, and prepared his speech for the journalism forum he nearly declined.

When he took the stage that weekend, in front of a packed hall, he looked nervous. But his voice didn't shake.

He told them about his father. About invisible workers. About the stories that live behind silence.

And when he stepped down, the applause felt like thunder.

Back in their usual study room, the group gathered again.

"Final stretch," Zichen said. "Three weeks left."

Gu Yuyan smiled. "Then we scatter. But not forever."

Yahan nodded. "We built something here. Not just grades."

Tianxiue looked around. "A net. So none of us falls alone."

Yuke whispered, almost to himself: "I'm not afraid anymore."

They sat together for a while. No words. Just the soft shuffle of pages and the quiet music of shared purpose.

Outside, summer crept closer.

But inside, they had already bloomed.

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