Did the Movie Emperor Blow His Cover Today? - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The imperial capital was bathed in the gentle autumn sun, a clear breeze rustling through the air.

Tao Hui stood downstairs, waiting for her manager. A pair of oversized sunglasses concealed most of her face, while a Burberry scarf loosely draped over her delicate chin, leaving only the tip of her nose, flushed pink by the wind, visible.

“One last push and we’re done. Their ADC is truly hopeless—I could scatter rice on my phone and a chicken would have better positioning. And that Zhuang Zhou on their team? He’s practically living in a dream! He sleepwalked through the entire match!”

It was early morning, and the residential complex buzzed with commuters and students. Tao Hui leaned against an advertising board by the stairwell, speaking calmly, her clear voice a stark contrast to the chaotic morning.

With earbuds in, she stared intently at her phone screen, her pale fingers dancing across the touch screen. Soon, the triumphant “Victory” sound rang out. Tao Hui smiled, lifted her chin slightly, and blew a translucent bubble with her gum, a hint of pride in her eyes.

She shook her aching wrist, and a new message flashed at the top of her screen,

[ Teacher Tao, another round? ]

Glancing at the time, she estimated her manager’s imminent arrival. She replied with a voice message, “Can’t carry you anymore, little fanboy. I have to work soon.”

The other party responded with an “OK” hand gesture emoji.

The person messaging her was a devoted fan she’d picked up while gaming. He was skilled, not clingy, and had a great temper. In King’s Canyon, he’d go wherever she told him to, play whichever hero she suggested, and follow her every command without complaint—utterly obedient and well-behaved.

He rarely spoke much, mostly just “Mhm” and “Okay” when voice chat was on. He was the epitome of a sunny, gentle, and comforting “little puppy” type.

Though his skills were only average, he stood in stark contrast to those toxic male gamers who, despite their own incompetence, would curse out their teammates’ families and ancestral graves.

Tao Hui was quite satisfied with her little fan.

However, neither he nor the passersby in her residential complex knew that the internet-addicted girl leaning against the stairwell was none other than Tao Hui, the rising star featured in the massive Hua Li smartphone ad across the street—the “Sugar Girl” known for her sweet-but-not-cloying charm.

The sun was bright as Tao Hui lazily stretched, her elbow brushing against something that fell to her feet—a business card.

She picked it up and gasped.

“Who’ll keep you company on lonely nights? A sexy little wildcat awaits your call!”

The yellow flyer featured a busty woman striking a provocative pose, cradling her silicone breasts with one arm while sucking in her stomach so hard her face twisted. A pair of cheap cat ears, the kind you could buy a dozen of for twenty yuan, perched atop her head, sending shivers of disgust down Tao Hui’s spine.

“Beep-beep!”

The sudden honk startled Tao Hui out of her chill. She looked up to see her manager, Zhou Xun, leaning halfway out of a silver-gray sedan.

“Sister Xun!” Tao Hui shoved the flyer into her pocket and hurried over, pulling open the passenger door. “Why did you drive your own car? Didn’t you go back to the office?”

Zhou Xun expertly backed out of the parking space. “It’s more discreet this way. If the director doesn’t like you, the media will be all over you again.”

Unlike other strict managers who wouldn’t even let their clients touch bubble tea, Zhou Xun was overly concerned and constantly nagged, “Good heavens, it’s freezing! Why aren’t you wearing long johns?” “Staying up late is bad for you—go to bed!” “It’s so dry out! You should eat some pears to cool down!” He sounded just like a mother hen, earning him the affectionate nickname “Sister Xun” from Tao Hui.

The dignified manager had been reduced to being called a pimp.

Zhou Xun, clearly used to the nickname, steered the car out of the residential complex and casually asked, “Hui, did you get enough rest yesterday?”

Tao Hui, absorbed in her mobile game stats, replied without looking up, “Absolutely! I was MVP every match, carrying the team like a pro! My skills were off the charts! I even led my little fanboy to an eight-win streak!”

The next moment, Tao Hui felt a sharp tap on her forehead. Her sunglasses slid down, barely hanging on her nose, and she rubbed her head with a pout.

Zhou Xun, holding a rolled-up advertising flyer, kept his eyes on the road ahead as he tapped her twice more with it. “We finished going over the script after midnight yesterday, and you still managed an eight-game winning streak? If each game took twenty minutes… Ugh, did you not sleep until three again?”

“I was nervous about meeting Director Chen! Gaming helps me relax!” Tao Hui snatched the paper tube from Zhou Xun and waved it with determination. “Sister Xun, I’ll behave today and definitely get into Director Chen’s crew!”

“As long as you don’t mess up, you have a ninety percent chance. Don’t blurt out anything unnecessary. Answer his questions politely and directly. Director Chen is strict on set. Someone of your skill level is already pushing the limits of his patience,” the manager warned.

Tao Hui was also excited about Sheng Jue. The thought of joining a cast of veteran actors brought a faint smile to her face.

She slowly unrolled the “weapon” Zhou Xun had been using—the rolled-up advertising flyer. Her smile froze. The flyer featured that detestable face of Han Buji.

Anima Men’s Wear: The Gentleman’s Choice

In the photo, Han Buji’s features were sharp and defined. Gold-rimmed glasses perched on his straight, high-bridged nose, framing deep-set eyes with lazily upturned corners. A hint of a smile played on his lips, conveying both the depth of a mature man and the rebellious spirit of youth. A tailored suit hugged his flawless physique.

After all, he was the nation’s heartthrob—undeniably handsome.

But a gentleman? Hah! What a joke!

Tao Hui pinched the corner of the promotional page, wrinkling her nose in disdain. Her sharp eyes darted to Zhou Xun, her manager, who was wearing the same suit as Han Buji. The effect… well, let’s just say it wasn’t quite the same.

She glanced back at the page.

A man with millions of adoring fans must have some appeal. No wonder his followers showered him with such extravagant praise.

“Brother’s legs aren’t legs, they’re the spring waters of the Seine. Brother’s back isn’t a back, it’s a Bulgarian rose. Brother’s waist isn’t a waist, it’s the curved blade of Life-Taking Third Brother. Brother’s lips aren’t lips, they’re the clear waters beneath the Anhe Bridge.”

Tao Hui recalled the phrase and gagged dramatically, clutching her throat. “Ugh!”

Truth be told, Tao Hui didn’t know Han Buji personally. But their single, 45-second encounter had left her with an irrational aversion to his handsome face. Even catching a glimpse of him on TV made her want to roll her eyes so hard they’d disappear into her skull.

She pulled out the small yellow flyer from her pocket, spat out her gum, and stuck the sexy kitten ad to Han Buji’s face. Then, she rummaged for a marker, waved her hand, and wrote “Buy One, Get One Free” in bold characters across his forehead.

Zhou Xun, focused on driving, didn’t notice Tao Hui’s antics. He continued his rambling instructions, “Make sure you perform well later. Director Chen’s crew has high standards, and this production is full of veteran actors. I heard even running errands on set can teach you a lot…”

Zhou Xun droned on until they reached a red light. As he braked and parked the car, he turned to see Tao Hui, pen cap in her mouth, meticulously drawing a turtle on the Best Actor’s face.

Zhou Xun: “….”

Three hours later, the silver Accord pulled into the Film and Television Base and parked by the roadside.

Tao Hui removed her sunglasses and adjusted a wide-brimmed hat in a warm autumn orange. She cinched the belt of her trench coat, accentuating her slender waist. After pressing her lips, coated in caramel persimmon lip gloss, she blew a kiss toward the base’s entrance, “I’m here!”

As a celebrity, Tao Hui transformed completely when “on duty,” her every gesture exuding refined charm. She was a captivating beauty, a true vision of human perfection.

Tao Hui watched her manager drive away, then lowered the brim of her hat slightly.

Sheng Jue was a grand historical drama set in an alternate world, already a month into filming. Tao Hui, a newcomer who had directly approached the director to secure her role, knew it was best to keep a low profile.

If any scandalous rumors surfaced before she even joined the production, Sister Xun might just hang herself from the crooked tree at the entrance of the Film and Television Base, using her necktie to swing from the southeast-facing branch.

As she pondered how to greet Director Chen, Tao Hui stepped into the elevator.

Two other people were already inside. Tao Hui lowered her hat brim, her gaze settling on a pair of handcrafted bespoke men’s leather shoes.

She liked this brand and couldn’t help but glance at them a few times, letting her eyes drift upward.

Tao Hui’s gaze swept over long, straight legs encased in light-colored casual pants. She blinked.

Nice legs.

Above the legs was a hand tucked into a pocket, the pale wrist bare of jewelry. A biscuit-colored trench coat draped over the forearm of the other arm.

Good taste in clothes too.

Further up was a sapphire-blue shirt with a subtle pattern, its hem tucked into the casual pants, accentuating a trim waist.

Those legs, that waist, that physique!

Tao Hui wanted to grab the Best Actor’s millions of “wives” and give them a piece of her mind. “See this? This is the spring waters of the Seine! This is the Bulgarian Rose! This is the Life-Taking Third Brother’s scimitar!”

With a body like that, there was no reason not to look at his face.

Tao Hui slowly raised her head as naturally as possible.

His jawline was sharp and undeniably masculine.

His lips were well-shaped, thin, and alluring.

His nose was straight and carried an air of proud confidence.

And his eyes… those phoenix eyes, a notoriously difficult shape to pull off. Aside from Han Buji in advertisements, this was the first time she’d seen them look… Wait a minute!

Holy shit, it was Han Buji himself!

Tao Hui snapped back to reality like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. She instantly ducked under her hat brim and whirled around, so embarrassed she wanted to grab Sister Xun’s tie and hang herself from the nearest crooked tree.

It felt like a thousand needles were pricking her back.

She could practically feel Han Buji and his manager’s gazes scrutinizing her spine.

A soft “hmm” came from behind, followed by a gentle tug on her sleeve.

Sensitive to the touch, Tao Hui turned back to see Han Buji’s manager smiling politely. He pointed to the gum stuck to her trench coat. “Your coat… there’s gum stuck to it.”

“Thank you,” Tao Hui mumbled, lowering her head guiltily. Sure enough, there was a gum stain on her trench coat.

But where had the gum come from?

Oh, right. She’d popped it in her mouth that morning before leaving and chewed it while gaming.

Later, she’d even used it to stick that yellow flyer to Han Buji’s promotional poster. It must have gotten stuck to her coat when she got out of the car.

Wait! The promotional poster?!

Tao Hui’s head snapped up in horror. Han Buji’s manager was unfurling the rolled-up poster. “No!” she blurted out, but it was too late.

Everything was too late.

The turtle drawn on Han Buji’s face, the yellow flyer stuck near his ear, the “Buy One Get One Free” note on his forehead—all were now on full display before Han Buji and his manager.

The final act had arrived, and the dagger plunged straight into Tao Hui’s heart.

She wanted nothing more than to crawl into a crack in the ground. Stiffly turning her head, she saw the Best Actor across from her slowly lift his eyelids. His languid, phoenix-like eyes narrowed slightly as he drawled, each word a deliberate, soul-crushing blow, “Very… creative.”