Did the Movie Emperor Blow His Cover Today? - Chapter 17

Chapter 17

In response to the trending topic, Wu Yue directly posted evidence on Unruly Entertainment’s official Weibo account.

First, he released surveillance footage from the hotel elevator and hallway. The video consistently showed Han Buji, Tao Hui, and Wu Yue together. Later, the footage showed Gao Meng standing at the door of room 806 after it was knocked open, proving that Tao Hui and Han Buji had never been alone.

Do you really bring two witnesses when you’re trying to seduce a man?

Next, he shared videos of the production team’s medical staff and crew members. Several staff members testified that Tao Hui had fallen into the lake during filming that day and, determined not to delay the schedule, had refused to rest and continued working until the end of the day. The medical staff’s records showed Tao Hui’s temperature within an hour of her collapse: 39°C, 38.5°C, 37°C, 37°C, and 36°C.

Do you really try to seduce a man while burning up with a 39°C fever and looking pale as a ghost? Are you cosplaying as Bai Wuchang or an electric heater? Does any man have such twisted tastes?

Finally, Gao Meng, Han Buji’s chief assistant, shared indoor surveillance footage from her own room. Tao Hui lay pale and weak on the bed, while Han Buji and Wu Yue left after consulting with the medical staff.

All this evidence proved that the marketing accounts were spreading baseless rumors and stirring up trouble with fabricated stories.

[ Unruly Entertainment V: ]

[ There’s a limit to seeking attention. Please don’t discourage dedicated actors. ]

The marketing account’s initial smear campaign had primarily targeted Han Buji’s fans. After reading the official clarification, they erupted in fury.

Our brother is so kind and helpful, and they twist his good deed into a scandalous night with a female star?! Damn it, this marketing account must be bored out of its mind! This account is dead!

In less than an hour, the marketing account’s Weibo was torn to shreds. Overwhelmed by the Han Meimeis’ onslaught, it deleted its account, leaving no trace.

The entire internet was filled with praise for Han Buji and condemnation for the marketing account.

A small minority, less than 30%, commended Tao Hui’s dedication before turning green with envy, wishing they could faint and receive a princess carry from Han Buji.

An even smaller group quietly chanted, “Han Buji and Tao Hui are such a perfect match! Aaaaah!”

The next day, Tao Hui, who had no filming schedule, lay on her hotel bed scrolling through the online comments. Amidst the sea of “Han Buji” mentions, she finally spotted her own name.

[ It’s always the female stars who throw themselves at him! Always the women who try to seduce him! Always the actresses trying to stir up drama! Always the women who get blamed! Tao Hui insisted on filming despite her fever—what did she do wrong?! ]

“Well said!”

Tao Hui mentally applauded, then used her burner Weibo account to like the post by “Martial Arts Cutie.” Curious, she clicked through to the girl’s profile.

One glance nearly made Tao Hui’s jaw drop.

Every single post by this girl was about her—no, more precisely, about her and Han Buji.

[ Han Buji is 186 cm tall, and Tao Hui is 164 cm. The height difference is perfect! Tao Hui can just bury her face in his chest! ]

Who wants to bury their face in that guy’s chest?!

[ The Best Actor and Tao Hui are such a perfect match! He’s devastatingly handsome, and she’s breathtakingly beautiful! Oh my god, I’m dying! ]

You’re dying of what? I’m not dying! Han Buji and I are not a match at all!

[ OMG, the way the Best Actor held Tao Hui was so swoon-worthy! So full of passion! ]

Stop making things up! Han Buji’s eyes always look like that! He doesn’t just look at me that way—he looks at the crooked tree outside the Film and Television Base the same way!

Tao Hui mentally sniped at each post until she stumbled upon one with a picture, a meticulously edited, high-definition photo.

It was the one of Han Buji carrying her in a princess carry.

As if guided by some unseen force, Tao Hui’s thumb and index finger moved, zooming in on the photo.

In the picture, Han Buji was dressed in a suit, his feet shod in custom-made leather shoes. A solid-colored tie was draped over his pale fingers, one arm tucked behind her knees, the other wrapped around her back, holding her shoulder tightly.

His brow was slightly furrowed, and he was striding purposefully.

Tao Hui stared at Han Buji for a long moment. So that’s how he looked that night.

Perhaps because she’d been spending so much time with him recently, Tao Hui didn’t see the deep affection everyone else claimed to see in his eyes. Instead, he looked angry.

Why was he angry?

Was it, “Tsk, this Tao Hui is such a pain!”

Or was it, “Tsk, this Tao Hui, why is she filming while she’s sick?”

Comparing the two, Tao Hui couldn’t explain why, but she leaned toward the latter.

Tao Hui flopped onto the bed, her arm brushing against something stiff and papery. She reached behind her and pulled it out—a signed photo of Han Buji, defaced with three large turtles she’d drawn on it.

This must have been from when she first joined the production team, Tao Hui thought, scratching her head. Had her impression of Han Buji really become so positive lately? She couldn’t even bring herself to draw turtles on his photos anymore.

Tao Hui’s phone lit up with a message from Sister Xun.

[ Miao Miao is returning to the hotel this afternoon. Keep an eye on her and don’t let her eat any more of that junk food! ]

Tao Hui replied to Zhou Xun, climbed out of bed, and headed to the bathroom.

The hotel had plenty of hot water. Tao Hui closed her eyes in the steamy mist, carefully recalling every day since joining the Sheng Jue production team.

Miao Miao had undergone blood tests and stomach examinations at the hospital, but despite her repeated vomiting, they couldn’t pinpoint the exact source of her food poisoning. The doctor only suggested it might be due to fungi like mushrooms or wood ear.

Ironically, Miao Miao had shared a self-heating hotpot with Tao Hui that very afternoon.

If not for Han Buji’s warning, Tao Hui wouldn’t have clearly realized the string of misfortunes that had plagued her since joining the production team. She would have simply assumed Miao Miao had eaten something that didn’t agree with her.

The scalded arm, the coffee on the day Miao Miao was hospitalized, the hand that pushed her into the lake, and the twice-leaked internal production photos—any one of these incidents, without Han Buji’s help, could have become the second major setback in her career.

Tao Hui slowly opened her eyes, her long eyelashes glistening with condensed steam.

Tao Hui stared at the peach-scented shower gel on the shelf. Not long after joining the production team, Han You had come to her door with a sweet smile. “Sister Tao Hui, this shower gel smells amazing! I wanted to give it to you.”

Why would such a sweet girl…?

The peach shower gel landed in the trash. Tao Hui lowered her gaze and sighed softly.

Her suspicions about Han You were just her own speculations. She couldn’t tell Zhou Xun, and definitely not Miao Miao.

Knowing Miao Miao’s impulsive nature, she might confront Han You directly, which would be slander and smear the reputation of a female celebrity. If the situation escalated, Miao Miao, as just an assistant, would likely be dismissed by the company’s higher-ups to quell the scandal.

Tao Hui took a deep breath. Miao Miao had fallen ill after drinking her coffee, and Tao Hui couldn’t shake the guilt.

After showering, Tao Hui quickly dried her hair, applied a thick layer of concealer to her neck, skipped makeup, threw on a bomber jacket, tight jeans, and combat boots, and headed out to buy Miao Miao something nice to eat.

The nearest supermarket to the Film and Television Base was a membership-only store, charging an annual fee of 260 yuan just for entry. Tao Hui hadn’t planned to renew her membership this year, having recently bought a house.

Miao Miao used to happily follow Tao Hui around, borrowing her membership card to pick out a couple of imported fruits.

Remembering Miao Miao’s pale face before she fainted that day, Tao Hui renewed her membership and slowly pushed her cart through the aisles.

As she reached for a large bag of imported potato chips on the top shelf, her phone buzzed in her jeans pocket. The falling bag of chips hit her, and she quickly adjusted her sunglasses, which covered half her face, before answering the voice call.

“Teacher Tao, are you busy?” a raspy voice, like that of an old man, came through the phone.

Tao Hui froze, bent down to toss the chips into her cart, and glanced at her phone.

It was indeed Little Fanboy’s voice call. But what was with this hoarse, weathered voice?

“Little Fanboy? What happened to your voice? Are you sick?” Tao Hui asked.

Silence hung on the other end for a moment, then a sudden “beep” sounded. When the voice spoke again, it was Little Fanboy’s usual sunny, gentle tone, “Sorry, that was my roommate.”

Roommate? How does your roommate sound like your dad, so old?

Or maybe it was just guys joking around?

Tao Hui pushed her shopping cart, chatting casually with her little fanboy.

Suddenly, she remembered seeing the words “Sunshine Junior” somewhere recently. But where?

“Teacher Tao, are you still there? Where are you? It sounds lively,” the little fanboy said.

“Huh? Oh, yes, I’m still here,” Tao Hui replied, her thoughts interrupted. She grabbed two boxes of mangosteens and tossed them into her cart. “I’m at the supermarket. A friend of mine is being discharged from the hospital today, so I’m getting her some snacks and fruit.”

“Oh,” the little fanboy responded. Then he asked, “How’s that colleague who gave you the burn cream doing?”

“Him?” Tao Hui paused, then answered honestly, “He’s been helping me a lot lately. I used to avoid him, but things are better now. I’ve realized he might not be the person I thought he was. Well, before, he seemed like exactly the type of person I hate most.”

The little fanboy asked slowly, “Teacher Tao, what type do you hate most?”

Tao Hui, busy selecting yogurt, answered without hesitation, “Temperamental. I hate people with bad tempers. I absolutely, absolutely hate them.”

“Short-tempered?” the Little Fanboy repeated on the other end of the phone, chuckling softly. “Oh, right, Teacher Tao, a friend of mine designed a necklace and gave it to me. It looks a bit feminine, so I thought I’d give it to you.”

“Huh? That doesn’t seem right,” Tao Hui replied, surprised. “We’ve only played games together. I’d feel awkward accepting a gift from you.”

The Little Fanboy laughed. “It’s just a handmade trinket from a friend, nothing expensive. Besides, Teacher Tao, you’ve carried me for so long. Without you, I’d probably still be stuck in Bronze.”

Tao Hui’s mind flashed back to when she first met the Little Fanboy, his suffocatingly bad positioning, his heroic dives under enemy towers only to be killed by minions, his unparalleled talent for letting jungle monsters claim first blood…

Unbearable memories!

Tao Hui stopped protesting. The Little Fanboy’s gesture was kind, and handmade items couldn’t be too pricey. She could always send him something in return later.

She gave him the name of her residential complex but not her exact address, instructing him to leave the package with the security guard. The Little Fanboy readily agreed.

They chatted casually until Tao Hui reached the checkout, then ended the call.

It had been a while since Tao Hui had gone shopping alone, and she’d accidentally bought too much. Clutching her baseball cap, she huffed and puffed as she lugged two enormous shopping bags, already regretting her purchase of two large coconuts.

After getting out of the car, she struggled to carry the bags into the hotel. By then, her hands were numb from the plastic straps.

She dropped the bags onto the floor and wiggled her reddened fingers.

It was just past 10 a.m., and the hotel lobby was nearly empty. Historical dramas with action scenes were exhausting, and most of the cast and crew were either on set or catching up on sleep. Tao Hui leaned against the elevator wall, waiting alone.

She hadn’t had time for breakfast that morning and only now realized she was hungry.

Reaching into one of the shopping bags, she pulled out a green apple, casually wiped it with her hand, and took a crisp bite.

“Mmm, so sweet,” she murmured contentedly, her eyes half-closed.

When she was a child at the orphanage, there had been an apple tree in the yard. It rarely bore more than a few fruits each year, and after the worms had their fill, the remaining two or three were always given to the younger children first.

Xiao Taohui was at that awkward age, five years old, with younger siblings aged four and three. She was always the last to get a bite.

One day, her little sister let her taste a bite of a Qingyouyou apple. To her surprise, the pale green fruit was incredibly sweet.

Tears welled up in Xiao Taohui’s eyes as she clenched her fist and vowed, “Someday, I’ll earn lots of money! I’ll buy a whole basket of apples and eat them all! Apples are the best!”

More than a decade had passed. Now, Tao Hui could buy as many apples as she wanted, and no one would snatch them away from her.

Lost in memories of her childhood, Tao Hui stood holding an apple, momentarily distracted. She didn’t notice the elevator doors had opened and, finding no one entering, quietly closed again.

She felt transported back to that small, dilapidated courtyard, overgrown with weeds. After the rain, it would fill with the earthy fragrance of damp grass and soil.

Tao Hui sniffed the air, suddenly catching a faint scent of cedar sandalwood that pulled her from her reverie.

As she whirled around, her hand holding the green apple went empty. Turning, she saw Han Buji standing there with a faint smile, holding the apple she had just taken a bite from.

“……” Tao Hui raised her hand, palm outward, and greeted him. “Hi, good morning.”

Han Buji seemed to be in a good mood. He glanced at her, then suddenly lifted the apple, turned it, and took a bite right next to her teeth marks with a crisp crunch.

Author’s Note:

Tao Hui: ? I thought once I grew up, no one would steal my apples anymore?