Did the Movie Emperor Blow His Cover Today? - Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The trending topic incident turned out to be a false alarm. The only consequence was that the production team had to adjust the filming schedule, moving Tao Hui’s scenes forward.

The production team still had the morning off the next day. Tao Hui slept in, opening her eyes to the morning light at 9 AM and stretching luxuriously.

She was staying in a hotel suite, and the lingering spicy aroma of hotpot and crayfish filled the living room. Thinking about last night’s dinner, Tao Hui felt a wave of frustration.

She had ordered a table full of spicy dishes, risking heartburn, all for Movie Emperor Han, who hailed from the Chuan Yu region. While she enthusiastically rolled up her sleeves and devoured the fiery meal, Han Buji barely touched his chopsticks.

Later, Tao Hui realized the truth, the Best Actor’s Imperial Capital persona couldn’t be compromised! How could he possibly eat spicy food in front of her?

Still, dining with Han Buji was surprisingly comfortable. Unable to fully indulge himself due to his public image, he enthusiastically peeled crayfish for her, resulting in Tao Hui finishing an entire pound of the crustaceans by herself.

With no filming scheduled for the morning, Tao Hui quickly freshened up and decided to head to the set to review the script and observe who might harbor such hostility toward her.

Tao Hui had a gut feeling that someone from the production team was behind the sudden surge in trending topics and the attacks from marketing accounts. After all, outsiders couldn’t enter the Film and Television Base, and only members of the production team would have had the opportunity to take those photos and create the two animated GIFs of the hotel and the set.

The set was quiet. Tao Hui sat in a corner, studying her script, when Han Buji’s manager, Wu Yue, and Xu Chang’s assistant, Zhang Zhaoyang, passed by.

Wu Yue stood with his hands on his hips. “Can’t you keep Xu Chang in check? Han Buji can’t handle spicy food at all. His stomach flared up this morning, and he was in so much pain he was drenched in cold sweat…”

“Xu Chang? He went to bed early yesterday. Maybe he snuck out in the middle of the night and ordered spicy duck necks again. I’ll definitely give him a talking-to later…” Zhang Zhaoyang scratched his head in agreement.

Neither of them noticed Tao Hui in the corner as they continued their conversation and walked away.

Tao Hui stared wide-eyed, trying to process what she had just heard.

Han Buji can’t eat spicy food? His stomach flared up this morning? And he was drenched in cold sweat?

Tao Hui recalled the bubbling hotpot brimming with chili oil from yesterday. Guiltily, she bit her lower lip.

A bottle of mineral water suddenly appeared in front of Tao Hui, followed by the scraping sound of a chair being dragged across the floor—skritch. A figure with the scent of cedar and sandalwood sat down beside her.

Tao Hui looked at Han Buji, who appeared relaxed and cheerful, nothing like the sweaty, pale figure Wu Yue had described.

She grabbed Han Buji’s sleeve and whispered conspiratorially, “Are you sick?”

Han Buji raised an eyebrow and gave her a long, searching look.

“No, no, I mean, do you have a stomach problem? Can’t you eat spicy food?” Tao Hui cupped her hand around her mouth, a little anxious, and asked softly, “I just heard your manager say your stomach was acting up. Was it because I treated you to that spicy hotpot yesterday?”

Han Buji lowered his gaze. The girl’s brow was furrowed slightly, her eyes filled with unease, and even her eyelashes drooped downward.

If he told her he really did have a stomach problem, she might die of guilt.

Han Buji suddenly smiled and beckoned her closer. “Come here. I’ll tell you a secret.”

Tao Hui was completely consumed by guilt, berating herself for “making someone’s stomach problems flare up by insisting they eat.”

She desperately wished she could transmigrate back to last night, grab her hand as she enthusiastically piled tripe and duck intestines into Han Buji’s bowl, and shout, “He has a condition! He can’t handle spicy food!”

In this state of mind, Tao Hui didn’t fully process Han Buji’s words. She simply followed his lead, leaning closer and tilting her head to expose her pale ear.

Han Buji’s eyes flickered. He leaned in, shielding her ear with his hand, and whispered, “It’s just for maintaining my public persona. Don’t feel bad.”

Maintaining his public persona?!

Right! Han Buji claimed to be from the Imperial Capital, so he had to pretend he couldn’t handle spicy food!

Tao Hui’s relief surged. She lowered her voice and whispered, “You scared me to death! I thought I’d made you sick. Hey, are there even any Chuan Yu people who don’t eat spicy food?”

“Chuan Yu people?” Han Buji tilted his head, his expression puzzled.

Tao Hui clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh no, I’m sorry! I forgot—the persona! I’ll keep it a secret!”

Han Buji merely smiled, offering no explanation.

After Han Buji was called away by the director, Tao Hui belatedly realized her ears were burning. Rubbing her earlobe, she muttered, “Why did he have to get so close? This isn’t class! What was with all the whispering?”

Tao Hui had been filming scenes all afternoon, mostly action sequences. The martial arts instructor was drenched in sweat, and Tao Hui looked like she’d been pulled from a pool, needing frequent breaks to touch up her makeup.

Han You, who had finished filming at another location, rushed over with a thoughtful cup of coffee for Tao Hui. Taking advantage of the director’s absence, she quietly encouraged her, “Go, Sister Tao!”

Tao Hui didn’t know why everyone kept offering her coffee. She left Han You’s untouched, instead taking small sips from the mineral water Han Buji had given her earlier.

By evening, Tao Hui’s energy was completely drained. Her body ached as if she’d been beaten up.

Miao Miao claimed Han You’s coffee for herself, happily sipping it as she helped Tao Hui walk. “Sister Huihui, what do you want for dinner?”

“Whatever,” Tao Hui replied weakly. “Right now, I just want a hot shower and a good night’s sleep.”

Back at the hotel, Tao Hui slumped in her chair, listlessly spooning the congee Miao Miao had bought for her. Across from her, Miao Miao was sucking her fingers as she devoured fries and a burger, Tao Hui too exhausted to even open her mouth.

Buzz. Her phone vibrated.

[ Teacher Tao, are you coming? ]

It was a game invite from her Little Fanboy.

Too tired to type, Tao Hui called him directly, slurring into the phone from her slumped position, “No, I’m too exhausted to play. You’ll have to queue solo. If you lose, I’ll avenge you tomorrow. Right now, I just want to finish this Jinji congee and go to sleep.”

“Alright,” the Little Fanboy replied listlessly, as if just realizing something. He tentatively asked, “Teacher Tao, when you say Jinji, do you mean the chain congee shop in the Imperial Capital? Are you in the Imperial Capital too?”

Tao Hui straightened abruptly. She’d been too careless, forgetting that Jinji congee shops only existed in the Imperial Capital. Judging by the Little Fanboy’s tone, he was also there?

“Yes, I’m in the Imperial Capital,” Tao Hui said, glancing at Miao Miao, who was dashing to the bathroom again.

What’s wrong with that girl? She’s already run to the bathroom three times since we got back. Is her period starting?

“What a coincidence! I’m from the Imperial Capital too,” the Little Fanboy said with a cheerful smile. “Teacher Tao, we’ve been gaming together for so long. Do you think we’ll ever get the chance to meet in person?”

Tao Hui hesitated. She hadn’t planned on meeting the Little Fanboy. After all, he was only 19 and still in school, while she was a celebrity, making such a meeting inconvenient.

But the Little Fanboy was so gentle, and they’d played together for so long. Tao Hui found it difficult to refuse outright.

After a moment’s thought, she suggested, “Let’s not plan anything specific. I have a large, pink birthmark on my neck, shaped a bit like a flower petal. I’m 165 centimeters tall. If we happen to run into each other by chance, that’s fate. If not, no worries.”

“But I don’t usually show my birthmark,” Tao Hui added with a smile. “Let’s leave it to fate!”

The Little Fanboy fell silent for a moment before suddenly asking, “Teacher Tao, why don’t you show your birthmark more often?”

“That’s…” Tao Hui lowered her gaze to the cooling porridge in her bowl, a flicker of sadness crossing her eyes. After a few seconds of silence, she finally answered, “Because I’m afraid of being found. The truth is…”

Before Tao Hui could finish her sentence, Miao Miao suddenly burst out of the bathroom, pale as a ghost, and collapsed onto the table, gasping weakly, “Sister Huihui, my stomach… it hurts so much.”

Tao Hui looked up, startled by Miao Miao’s ashen face. Beads of sweat rolled down Miao Miao’s forehead, and her skin was paper-white. Covering the phone, Tao Hui hastily said, “Sorry, Little Fanboy, my friend might be sick. I have to hang up.”

Without waiting for a response, Tao Hui abruptly ended the call.

Tao Hui reached out to touch Miao Miao’s forehead, urgently asking, “What’s wrong? Why does your stomach hurt so suddenly? Are you on your period?”

Miao Miao was crying in pain, her eyes red-rimmed with tears. “My period just ended, Sister Huihui… It hurts so much… My stomach…”

Miao Miao clapped a hand over her mouth and dashed back to the bathroom, followed by violent retching. Tao Hui poured a glass of warm water and rushed in to find Miao Miao slumped on the floor, clutching her stomach, tears streaming down her face. “I feel so awful… Sister Huihui, I don’t feel good…”

“Did you eat something bad? Why did this happen so suddenly?” Tao Hui paced anxiously, handing Miao Miao the water. She grabbed her coat, slipped on her slippers, and hurried out. “I’ll find a medical staff member. Wait here—don’t move! Just wait for me!”

Tao Hui didn’t wait for the elevator. She raced to the stairwell and ran to the third floor, relying on her memory to find Room 305, where the medical staff resided. She had visited twice in the past few days for a burn.

“Dr. Wang! Dr. Wang, are you there?” Tao Hui knocked urgently. “Dr. Wang, my assistant is sick! Are you there?!”

After repeated knocking with no response, Tao Hui stood helplessly at the door.

“Should I call Dr. Wang?” Han Buji’s voice suddenly came from behind.

Tao Hui was so focused on Miao Miao’s condition that she didn’t notice Han Buji was also wearing slippers, nor did she find it odd that he had suddenly appeared on the third floor.

Clutching at this lifeline, she nodded frantically. “You have Dr. Wang’s number? That’s wonderful! Can you call him for me?”

After hearing the situation, Dr. Wang advised Tao Hui not to leave Miao Miao’s side. He suspected food poisoning and warned that if her condition worsened, she might go into shock. He recommended calling an ambulance.

Tao Hui turned and raced back, Han Buji following close behind. As they burst into the room, they saw Miao Miao weakly struggling to rise from the floor. Suddenly, her eyes fluttered shut, and she collapsed backward.

“Miao Miao!” Tao Hui screamed, catching her in her arms just before she hit the ground, nearly losing her balance herself.

Han Buji, who was behind them, quickly steadied them and said in a deep voice, “I’m calling an ambulance!”

The nearest hospital was some distance from the Film and Television Base. Han Buji made a snap decision, “Let’s drive toward the ambulance to meet it halfway. It’ll save time.”

Tao Hui cradled Miao Miao in the back seat of Han Buji’s car. He drove at breakneck speed, finally intercepting the ambulance ten minutes later.

The pungent smell of disinfectant in the hospital was nauseating. Dr. Wang diagnosed Miao Miao with food poisoning. Tao Hui, her hood pulled low, sat before him, fighting back tears as she recounted Miao Miao’s recent meals.

By the time Zhou Xun rushed to the hospital, Miao Miao was out of danger and receiving an IV drip in the inpatient ward.

Tao Hui stood slumped in the corridor, utterly dejected. “I’m so sorry, Sister Xun,” she murmured. “We’ll never eat street food again.”

“I told you not to keep eating those street snacks,” Zhou Xun sighed, waving her hand dismissively. She glanced at Han Buji, who was wearing a mask, then turned to Tao Hui. “Huihui, you should go home and rest. I’ll stay with Miao Miao. We have filming tomorrow—you can’t afford to be exhausted.”

After speaking, Zhou Xun politely asked Han Buji, “Teacher Han, would you mind taking Tao Hui back with you?”

Han Buji nodded. “Alright.”

“Thank you. Be careful when you leave and avoid getting photographed,” Zhou Xun said, still in his pajamas with a coat thrown over them, reminding the two artists.

Tao Hui followed Han Buji out, glancing back repeatedly. By the time they returned to the hotel, it was past midnight, and the hallway was deserted.

Han Buji escorted Tao Hui to her room. Her eyes red-rimmed, she thanked him. “Thank you, Teacher Han. I’m sorry for troubling you today. Please go back and rest.”

Suddenly, Han Buji raised his hand and patted Tao Hui’s head in a comforting gesture.

Tao Hui looked up at him in surprise, but Han Buji had already withdrawn his hand. He leaned closer, his face unusually serious. “Tao Hui, many coincidences aren’t coincidences at all. Be careful.”