I Misjudged You

"Don't blow out the candles yet!" Lola forced herself to suppress the terror in her eyes, turning to stare at the bright flames.

She couldn't let the candles stay lit, or her secret would be exposed!

Neil Zhao couldn't care less about candles. He'd just married his bride and was impatient, almost frantic, as he hastily spread the white cloth meant to verify Lola's virginity on the bed.

Lola's clothes were being pulled off, but she was far too distracted to care about that. All she could think was: Blow out the candles, don't let him discover my secret!

Neil Zhao, his head buried and enthusiasm at its peak, suddenly noticed that Lola's attention was fixed entirely on the candles.

Neil Zhao's momentary distraction gave Lola an opening. She slipped away quickly and blew out all the candles.

With the candles extinguished, the room was plunged into total darkness—so black she couldn't see her own hand in front of her face. Wrapped in the darkness, Lola finally felt much safer.

She returned to the bed and hid the small hairpin she'd been concealing in her sleeve under the pillow.

Her action of blowing out the candles only slightly interrupted Neil Zhao's mood. He assumed Lola was just a shy young bride, embarrassed by the candlelight, which was why she insisted on darkness.

Neil Zhao, slightly tipsy, quickly lost all other thoughts and devoted himself to enjoying his wedding night.

After Neil Zhao let out a long, satisfied sigh, he lay down beside Lola, eyes closed, his contentment and the alcohol making him drowsy.

Lola was tense and alert. Listening to Neil Zhao's breathing, she sensed he had fallen asleep, so she carefully and quietly retrieved the small hairpin from beneath the pillow.

Lola was so nervous her hands trembled. In the darkness, she felt around the bed for the white cloth meant to verify her virginity, then used the sharp tip of the hairpin to stab her own wrist.

The pain from the puncture in her wrist made Lola's nerves even tighter.

Her arm shook violently as she nervously pressed the wound on her wrist against the white cloth.

But just at that moment, a hand suddenly grabbed Lola's wrist, right on the wound, causing her to bite her lip from the pain, nearly crying out.

"Lola, what are you doing?"

In the darkness, Neil Zhao, who had been lying down, sat up.

Lola couldn't see his expression, but she could tell from his tone that something was off.

"I—I... It's nothing..." Lola stammered, trying to pull her wrist away, but Neil Zhao could clearly feel the traces of liquid on her skin.

Neil Zhao sobered up instantly. He jumped out of bed, still gripping Lola’s wrist tightly, and lit the bedside lamp.

The sudden light illuminated Lola’s face, revealing all her panic and terror to Neil Zhao.

Neil Zhao lowered his gaze and saw that the white cloth on the bed was still pure white.

Beside Lola’s hand lay the small hairpin, its tip stained with blood.

The wrist Neil Zhao was holding had a small wound, bleeding—obviously pierced by the hairpin.

Neil Zhao was no fool; he understood everything at a glance. His expression instantly turned fierce as he flung Lola’s wrist away and snarled, "You weren’t a virgin, were you? Why is there no blood? Did you stab yourself with that hairpin to fool me like some cheap trickster? Lola, I thought you were different from those fake, disgusting Zhao family women. I thought you were pure and good, but I was wrong about you. You’re even worse than them!"