Did the Movie Emperor Blow His Cover Today? - Chapter 10

Chapter 10

“Han Buji and Tao Hui’s Romance Exposed!”

Tao Hui’s vision blurred the moment she saw the headline. Trembling, she clicked on the link and glanced at the content that had topped the trending searches:

“Three years after their last sighting together, Tao Hui was once again photographed entering and exiting the same hotel as Best Actor Han Buji, sparking rumors of a visit to the set of Sheng Jue, where Han Buji is currently filming. Best Actor Han’s romance exposed! Blah blah blah…”

The entire article was a fabrication, yet it was presented with such convincing detail.

Weakly, Tao Hui finished reading the lengthy, flowery prose, only to find it accompanied by three photos:

1. Han Buji entering a hotel near the film set.
2. Tao Hui exiting the hotel with her head bowed.
3. The same framed photo taken in Iceland three years ago.

Damn it! Her second career setback had arrived, just as she’d feared.

The Sheng Jue production crew hadn’t publicly announced Tao Hui’s casting. As a historical drama, only the three male leads had released official character posters. Other actors were typically promoted through behind-the-scenes footage and Weibo posts showcasing their best moments during filming.

Tao Hui had joined the crew late and hadn’t yet filmed any pivotal scenes. Director Chen intended to release her promotional material later, showcasing her strongest performances to win over fans of the original novel. This approach would benefit both the actress and the production.

Director Chen’s strategy seemed sound, but gossip reporters seized the opportunity. The unfortunate Tao Hui was instantly transformed from an actress into Best Actor Han’s visiting girlfriend.

The production crew immediately contacted Tao Hui and her manager, Zhou Xun, and urgently issued a clarification statement confirming that Tao Hui was a cast member, not a visiting girlfriend of the Best Actor.

With the official denial, the gossip-hungry crowd should have dispersed.

[ ~Take our Brother away! We’re not interested. Please focus on Brother’s new drama, Sheng Jue! ]

[ ~Take our Rabbit away! Rabbit’s not interested. Please focus on Rabbit’s new drama, Sheng Jue! ]

Tao Hui’s Rabbit Fur and Han Buji’s Han Meimei fan groups were surprisingly united and remarkably rational.

But then the Marketing Accounts suddenly intervened, launching a coordinated smear campaign against Tao Hui. Several accounts simultaneously spread rumors that she was trying to seduce Han Buji on set.

The most malicious tactic was the release of two animated GIFs. The first showed the moment Tao Hui tackled Han Buji to the ground, while the second, taken from a misleading angle, made it appear as if Tao Hui, walking behind him, was tugging on Han Buji’s sleeve.

These two images ignited the fury of the Han Meimei fan group.

[ ~Brother works so hard filming, and now he has to deal with these shameless gold-diggers? He’s so pitiful! ]

[ ~Anyone who can’t focus on acting should get off the set! ]

[ ~Tao Hui, get lost! Stay away from Brother! ]

[ ~Are the production crew eating shit? How did this trash even get in? ]

[ ~Here we go again! This woman’s causing trouble again! Tao Hui, get out of the entertainment industry! ]

The accident Tao Hui experienced at eighteen left her feeling wronged and unable to defend herself.

Now, at twenty-one, she watched the internet erupt with demands for her to “get out,” feeling neither wronged nor tearful. Instead, she sensed a calculated malice behind the barrage of online hate.

Even with her resilient spirit, Tao Hui couldn’t ignore the unsettling truth: someone was deliberately targeting her.

“Production crews always have confidentiality agreements,” Manager Wu Yue said, his hands on his hips. “Director Chen only hires trusted veterans. No one would leak those photos.” He paused, then added, “Why don’t you consider that Tao Hui’s own people might be behind this? Maybe she’s trying to seduce you?”

Seduce me?

The woman barely glances at me, and when she does speak, it’s with the same pained grunts as someone with a toothache. How could I possibly mistake that for seduction?

Han Buji shot Wu Yue a dismissive glance, as if his words were mere hot air. “Did you slam your head in the door this morning?”

Wu Yue flinched under Han Buji’s intense gaze, but he stood his ground. “How is that impossible? Remember what the PR manager said years ago? Tao Hui went to Iceland just to ride your coattails! Sure, her acting roles haven’t been great these past three years, but she’s been raking in ad deals. Even negative publicity is still publicity. Don’t think she’s some innocent angel—”

“Y-you’re lying!” a soprano voice interrupted Wu Yue’s analysis.

Han Buji and Wu Yue turned in surprise to see Gao Meng’s face flushed crimson like a tomato, her entire body trembling. “You’re lying! Our Rabbit doesn’t need black marketing to be amazing! She’s the Nation’s First Love! She won awards back then! Two of them!”

“Huh?” Wu Yue blinked, stunned by the outburst. “Who’s Rabbit?” he asked, utterly bewildered.

Gao Meng had been personally promoted by Han Buji to become his senior assistant last year. Rumor had it that Han Buji had asked her only one question during the interview, and she was hired the very next day.

This led Wu Yue to suspect Gao Meng might be some relative of Han Buji’s.

“That’s Tao Hui,” Han Buji said with a smile, walking past Wu Yue to pat Gao Meng on the shoulder. “Rabbit is indeed amazing. Let’s help her now.”

Wu Yue stood there, mouth agape, utterly dumbfounded.

What’s going on? Is this Rabbit Tao Hui also one of your relatives?

Han Buji rarely paid attention to anything outside of filming. He hadn’t even glanced at the rumors about Tao Hui three years ago; all public announcements and statements had been handled by the company’s PR team. He had no idea who Tao Hui was.

It wasn’t until last year that Han Buji stumbled upon a video on a forum—a few seconds of footage showing Tao Hui at an Icelandic hotel.

The young woman, dressed in a white wool dress, smiled as she opened her room door. Her expression quickly turned to shock, and she frantically raised a hand to cover her neck before slamming the door shut.

On her neck was a small, pink mark shaped like a rose petal.

So, the person he had been searching for for seven years had once been so close to him.

Meanwhile, Tao Hui and Zhou Xun were still racking their brains in the hotel room, trying to figure out how to clarify the situation on Weibo. Tao Hui, her brow furrowed in worry, muttered, “Sister Xun, can I borrow your tie?”

The crooked-necked tree outside the film studio would be perfect for hanging herself.

“Oh, not that yellow one with the spots,” Tao Hui said gloomily. “The media’s eyesight isn’t great. They mistook me for Han Buji’s visiting girlfriend, so they might mistake your Spring Blossoms tie for a snake.”

Suddenly, Miao Miao burst in, waving her phone excitedly. “Sister Huihui! The marketing accounts apologized! They actually apologized to you! Ahhh, this is amazing!”

“What?!” Han You, who had been sitting in Tao Hui’s room with a gloomy expression, suddenly leaped up from her chair. Clutching her phone, she stared at it for a long moment before exclaiming excitedly, “This is amazing! Absolutely amazing! These marketing accounts actually have a conscience!”

Tao Hui clicked open her phone, puzzled. Several marketing accounts that had previously attacked her had posted apology statements, their tone surprisingly sincere. They wrote things like, “We sincerely apologize to Miss Tao Hui and wish her continued success.”

Even more astonishingly, Han Buji, whose Weibo account had been dormant for ages, retweeted the post and even liked it.

Xu Chang, Director Chen, the assistant director, the screenwriter, and several other actors who had worked with Tao Hui also retweeted the apology.

The comments section immediately shifted:

[ ~Damn marketing accounts, spreading your mother’s bullshit! ]

[ ~Go, Rabbit! We’ll always support you! ]

[ ~Apologies to Tao Hui! We shouldn’t have criticized you. Sorry, sorry, sorry! Wishing Sheng Jue all the best! ]

[ ~These brainless marketing accounts are ruining good actors, constantly posting fake news just to chase trends. ]

[ ~The Sheng Jue production crew is so united! Let’s hope this incident doesn’t affect the filming schedule. Everyone, focus on making a great show! ]

[ ~Tao Hui, I’m sorry. Tao Hui, I’m sorry. Tao Hui, I’m sorry. ]

Han You wiped away tears, even more excited than Tao Hui. “Look at me, I’m so happy I forgot to retweet for Sister Tao Hui! Best Actor Han and the others were so thoughtful. I’ll retweet right now! I’ll go next door and ask Teacher Zhang to retweet too!”

Teacher Zhang, a senior actress who played Han You’s mother in the drama, watched as Han You excitedly ran off, phone in hand.

Miao Miao was also retweeting, her face beaming as if it were New Year’s Eve. “Did the marketing accounts suddenly develop a conscience? I was so scared! I thought the Han Meimei fan group would tear Sister Huihui to shreds! Let’s have crayfish tonight, Sister Xun! Let’s celebrate!”

The situation was clearly more complex than the two young women realized. Zhou Xun frowned and went outside to make a call. When he returned, he whispered to Tao Hui, “Someone must have paid the marketing accounts to flip. I just checked—it wasn’t the company.”

What had been a raging controversy had seemingly been resolved with a casual wave of the hand. Behind the scenes, someone had clearly spent a fortune. But who was it?

“Sister Xun, how much does it cost to get a marketing account to post an apology on Weibo?” Tao Hui asked, staring at her phone, her voice troubled. “Is it really expensive?”

“Expensive! If it weren’t, our company would have already made a move,” Zhou Xun muttered, suddenly grabbing Tao Hui’s arm. “Hui-ah, don’t do anything rash! A few harsh words are nothing—good opportunities will come. Just… don’t sacrifice yourself for this!”

Pfft! Tao Hui spat out a mouthful of water, her lips twitching.

She understood Zhou Xun’s concern all too well. The entertainment industry was full of people desperate for overnight success, and many lacked the patience to climb the ladder properly. To cut corners, some would cling to wealthy patrons like golden thighs.

Long ago, Zhou Xun had warned her that maintaining her integrity was crucial for a lasting career as an actress.

Wiping the water droplets from her mouth, she tugged on Zhou Xun’s tie. “Look at me! I spend all my free time gaming at home! Where would I even find a golden thigh to cling to? The only people I talk to are Miao Miao and Little Fanboy—one just eats all day, and the other just plays games. Neither of them looks like a golden thigh!”

Zhou Xun had only spoken casually. After managing Tao Hui for five years, he knew her character well.

Yet this only deepened his confusion. He pondered, “Then who could it be? Who has that kind of money?”

Who’s got money?

The wealthiest backer on the entire production crew… wasn’t that Han Buji, who took no payment for his cameo and had invested 80% of the film’s massive budget?

Tao Hui shuddered, a suspicion forming in her mind, though she couldn’t be sure if she was right.

The actors’ salaries were roughly comparable, with veterans and popular stars earning slightly more. But if you were talking about someone so rich they could make marketing accounts’ eyes pop without batting an eyelid, Tao Hui could only think of one person:

Han Buji.

Han Buji was a second-generation rich kid, a fact well-known in the industry.

His debut story was quite legendary.

Originally, Han Buji had founded an entertainment company. Perhaps due to bad luck, all three artists he signed turned out to be troublemakers.

One was kept by a wealthy mistress, forcing him to pay breach-of-contract fees and retire from the industry.

Another had his scandalous private life exposed, leading Han Buji to blacklist him.

The last one married in his second year with the company and immediately immigrated to the United States.

Rumor had it that Manager Wu Yue was so furious he nearly hanged himself with his tie in front of the company gate. After downing half a liter of baijiu, he bluntly told Han Buji, “President Han, you should debut yourself! You’re bound to become a star!”

Han Buji pondered for a moment, then surprisingly agreed.

Thus, President Han transformed into Best Actor Han, becoming the top star of his own company. Unruly Entertainment became a sensation, its market value doubling annually.

As Tao Hui recalled the legendary tales of Han Buji, she walked toward the elevator, her mind conflicted.

Due to the trending search scandal, the production crew had been forced to halt filming, and all staff were resting in the hotel.

Tao Hui pressed the elevator button. Whether it was Han Buji or not, she needed to get answers.

Ding!

The elevator doors slid open.

Han Buji stood inside, hands casually tucked into his pockets, leaning against the wall.

Dressed in casual attire—black sweatpants and a short-sleeved shirt—Han Buji’s skin appeared even paler against the dark fabric. His hair, likely without styling spray, had soft bangs that gently framed his forehead. His phoenix-shaped eyes lazily met Tao Hui’s gaze.

Though 27 years old, he still exuded a refreshing youthful charm.

He showed no surprise at seeing Tao Hui, as if he had been certain she would seek him out.

After a moment’s hesitation, Tao Hui stepped into the elevator. “Han Buji, I need to ask you something.”

Han Buji nodded slightly and pressed the button for his floor. “Ask away.”

“Thank you for retweeting my Weibo post to help clear things up,” Tao Hui said, carefully choosing her words. Finally, she lifted her chin and asked directly, “Were you behind the marketing accounts’ apologies?”

Tao Hui was nervous. Sister Xun was right: “Unsolicited kindness always has ulterior motives.”

She’d rather have Han Buji helping her than some unknown benefactor.

But she was also deeply uneasy. If it really was Han Buji, why would he help her? What were his intentions?

“Yes,” Han Buji nodded frankly. “We’re colleagues. No need to thank me.”

The elevator filled with the faint scent of cedar and sandalwood. Tao Hui had never had such a serious conversation with Han Buji before. Feeling awkward, she rubbed the tip of her nose. “But… why would you help me?”

As soon as she asked, Tao Hui felt Han Buji’s gaze slowly drift to the right side of her neck—the spot she always covered with concealer.

“Why do you think I would help you?” Han Buji asked softly, a smile playing on his lips.