The party atmosphere cooled down.
"Maybe we should just forget about it," said Chubby Jon with a dry laugh, trying to smooth things over. "She just stirred things up a bit with Elise Don, right? You can just calm her down later. No need to make a scene out of it."
"The young girl has her difficulties too."
Leo Lee didn't move.
Everyone knew Leo Lee's temper; no one dared to agree. Chubby Jon gave Oliver Bloom a look, but Oliver stayed silent, a hint of coldness appearing in his brows.
The moon hung high in the night sky, and it was past ten o'clock. Some used the excuse that it was late and hurriedly said their goodbyes.
In the end, only a few people were left scattered around.
Madeline Hunter went back and forth, diving seven times. After the eighth dive, she only surfaced twice and then went motionless for a while.
Oliver Bloom and Leo Lee had been excellent swimmers since childhood, and their family pools were built to professional standards—two meters deep.
Chubby Jon feared an accident, so he called out Madeline Hunter's name along the edge of the pool.
But the yellow figure in the water didn't respond.
"Damn!"
Chubby Jon had a bad feeling.
He dived in with a splash, kicking hard underwater. Just as he approached Madeline Hunter, she suddenly struggled with immense strength.
With spasms in her lungs, Madeline's strength was extraordinary. In an instant, she pushed the 200-pound Chubby Jon underwater, holding his head down.
Chubby Jon swallowed water and mumbled indistinctly, "Damn it! Miss... I'm trying to save you... Let go... You're drowning me..."
Madeline was already drowning, grabbing Chubby Jon like a lifeline, unwilling to let go easily.
The rescue plans were disrupted as Madeline thrashed about, leaving even Chubby Jon, despite being a skilled swimmer, swallowing several mouthfuls of water and unable to speak.
The two struggled desperately, and the pool churned like boiling water.
Those on the shore, including Leo Lee, were dumbfounded.
Someone suggested calling the police, someone else suggested calling an ambulance, but those distant solutions could not resolve the immediate danger. As the two grew weaker on the verge of life and death, there was another splash from the shore.
In just the blink of an eye, white waves surged from the depths of the water, and two strong arms expertly cut through the chaos of Madeline Hunter and Chubby Jon. In a powerful surge, Oliver Bloom separated the two.
With his left hand, he expertly gripped Madeline Hunter's armpit, swiftly flipping her face-up on the water's surface. With air finally entering her lungs, Madeline no longer resisted.
Oliver propelled through the water with a single-arm stroke, quickly dragging her to the shore.
What could have been a deadly situation was handled with such speed and professionalism by Oliver that it took everyone a moment to react and jump in to help.
Some helped to fish Chubby Jon out, while others patted Madeline's back.
Luckily, neither of them was seriously hurt.
When Oliver emerged in dry clothes, the looks from everyone had changed.
Someone had already pulled up his online profile—
Oliver Bloom, 2022 World Short Course Swimming Championships, gold medalist in the 100m butterfly, bronze in freestyle.
Leo Lee personally escorted Oliver out, their journey accompanied by hushed whispers and curious glances.
"...So he's Oliver Bloom, I thought he was Lee's celebrity friend..."
"Mmhmm, his legs are even longer than my idol's..."
"He's a national competitor, a professional, of course he's different."
The sky stretched high, the moon bright amidst sparse stars, Oliver's tall figure reflected in the shimmering water, the very image of an impressive professional athlete. Yet his expression remained calm and composed.
As they reached the gate, Leo subtly acknowledged, "Thanks, buddy. Good thing you were here."
If someone had drowned, not only would Leo Lee be in trouble personally, but even his highly influential family couldn't withstand the public backlash.
Company stock prices taking a hit was no small matter.
Oliver patted Leo on the shoulder without a word, casually unlocking a car by the roadside.
As the car beeped, Leo glanced over and his eyes widened.
It was an antique car whose model couldn't even be named, looking even more worn out and shabby under the dim streetlight.
Perhaps in a bid to show gratitude, Leo blurted out, "How about you drive my car instead? Take your pick from the garage."
After he spoke, both fell silent.
"I was just joking," Leo scratched his nose, feeling somewhat awkward, "Besides, a guy like you probably has access to any car you want."
Oliver chuckled indifferently, "I'm off."
...
At 11 p.m., Elise Don was pacing anxiously in her dorm room, a face mask on her face and Katherine Blue's phone in hand.
"He's not answering his phone, what's going on? Does he plan to keep my phone for himself?"
"That's possible." Katherine lounged over a chairback, grinning mischievously, enjoying the spectacle, "Did you remember the license plate? You could report it to the police."
In the rushed exit from the car, Elise Don was too busy posing to even think about noting the plate number.
"What does he look like?" Katherine asked again.
Elise paused mid-step, recalling those captivating eyes. She bit her lip and muttered quietly.
"It was too dark, how could I see his face clearly!"
Katherine replied, "Oh, then keep trying. The battery's almost dead, remember to charge it."
Elise quickly peeled off her face mask, grabbed a soft cotton towel to dry the residue, and once more dialed her own phone's number.
The busy tone droned on until suddenly, the receiver picked up—
"Hello."
A deep male voice.
Elise paused for two seconds, "Um... hello, I'm the person who accidentally got into the wrong car earlier. I accidently left my phone in your car..."
"Yes, I know."
If Katherine hadn't turned to look at her, Elise would've rolled her eyes: If he knew, why didn't he answer sooner?
But Elise had to maintain her cool persona.
She tentatively asked, "Can you return my phone? I'm at University A. Could you possibly come by, or should I come to get it?"
"Now?" Oliver inquired.
"Is there a problem?"
Oliver replied, "It's too late."
Elise sucked in a sharp breath.
Late?! She, a girl inviting him, didn't mind the time, yet he was complaining?
He was either being pretentious or causing her trouble. Just as she was about to get mad, it struck her that she was in the dormitory, not at home, and the girls' dorm locked up at eleven.
It actually... was too late.
While Elise hesitated, the other person had already devised a plan.
"I'm at University A as well. Tomorrow noon at one, meet me at the east gate's large parking lot to collect your phone, okay?"
"How will I find you..." Elise's heart skipped. "What's your name?"
The response didn't come immediately; she could almost hear the man's breathing through the phone, intermingling with the static white noise.
Just as Elise was about to explain further—
"My name is Oliver Bloom."
The voice was deep and rich, like music, making one forget how the call ended.
Elise quietly hung up the phone.
She couldn't quite articulate the feeling. After making that call, she felt as if she'd run an 800-meter race, her insides surging with warmth.
Elise took a deep breath, slightly puzzled.
With summer nearly ended, why did it feel even hotter?
...
The call lasted only forty-two seconds.
With one hand on the steering wheel, fingers distinctly outlined, Oliver held Elise's phone in the other, watching the still-lit screen.
The lock screen featured a photo of a very photogenic couple, embracing cheek-to-cheek, snapping a selfie.
The girl was likely the one who entered the wrong car tonight, and her boyfriend was none other than Leo Lee, whom Oliver was quite familiar with.
The world must indeed be an interesting place, closing up a circle, revealing all sorts of unexpected connections.
Tonight, the phone he picked up belonged to Leo Lee's ex-girlfriend, the formidable young lady Chubby Jon had mentioned.
Oliver watched the girl's smiling face on the screen until it went dark.
He looked up just as the light turned green, placing the phone back in the glove compartment.
The antique car started, slowly rolling onto the road.