Did the Movie Emperor Blow His Cover Today? - Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Tao Hui had been trending frequently lately, riding a wave of popularity. The production team seized the opportunity, releasing edited clips and GIFs of her filming Sheng Jue for several consecutive days.

Sheng Jue was a historical drama centered around political intrigue, with three male leads. Han Buji only made a cameo as the Third Prince, who died after just a few episodes, let alone Tao Hui.

Perhaps because Qing Wan, the character Tao Hui portrayed, was depicted as aloof and stunning in the original novel, and one of the few characters in the historical drama with a romantic subplot, her screen time was limited, yet she became one of the most anticipated characters among viewers.

For the first two days, Tao Hui was anxious, fearing that fans of the original novel would disapprove of her performance. To her surprise, the fans’ praise was unprecedented, subtly surpassing even the acclaim Han Buji received for his portrayal of Dongchuan.

As anticipation for Qing Wan’s scenes reached its peak, filming neared completion. Tao Hui’s days grew increasingly hectic, leaving her with even less time to play games with her Little Fanboy.

One day, Tao Hui finished work early and returned to her hotel, where she played a few games with Little Fanboy on her phone.

She couldn’t understand what was wrong with Little Fanboy’s gaming skills. It seemed like he had regressed after just a few days of not playing.

After losing seven consecutive matches, Tao Hui grew increasingly frustrated. She called Little Fanboy on WeChat voice chat and couldn’t help but adopt her “Teacher Tao” persona, unleashing a torrent of sharp-tongued criticism into the microphone.

“What’s wrong with you? Didn’t you see that Sun Wukong coming? Are you moving with your feet? I could probably walk on my hands upside down better than that!”

“Seriously, are you even playing? Anyone watching would think you’re sleepwalking!”

“Ladies and gentlemen, watch this! He’s back to controlling the game with his prosthetic hand! You wield that sword worse than the noodle knife at a Lanzhou hand-pulled noodle shop!”

Tao Hui’s temper had only grown fiercer with age. The little fanboy she’d been playing with the previous night, likely intimidated by her intensity, had remained completely silent throughout their gaming session.

The next day on set, Tao Hui hadn’t forgotten the humiliation of her twelve consecutive defeats. Even her breakfast walk had a brisk, wind-whipped energy.

The scene called for Dongchuan’s disappearance within the Western Xiang Kingdom. Qing Wan frantically searched for him, eventually learning that he had been captured by the Crown Prince of Western Xiang.

Clutching the White Jade Sword, Tao Hui radiated an aura of unstoppable fury, as if she would slay gods and demons alike. Suspended by wires, she soared into the Western Xiang Imperial Palace, silently cutting down anyone in her path. Blood flowed like rivers in her wake.

“Cut!” the script supervisor called. “Perfect!”

Applause erupted on set. Tao Hui had nailed the scene in a single take.

Her eyes bloodshot, Tao Hui turned sharply, startling the Assistant Director. He chuckled, “So immersed in the role? Take a break and touch up your makeup. That was an incredible performance!”

Only then did Tao Hui release her pent-up intensity, collapsing weakly into her chair and hugging the backrest as the makeup artist approached.

Thanks to the little fanboy’s abysmal gaming skills and his mind-numbing, toe-nail-thinking plays, Tao Hui had been worried about handling today’s two scenes. But now, fueled by righteous fury, she had sailed through the first one with ease.

The next scene was emotionally complex. Qing Wan stormed into the Western Xiang Imperial Palace only to discover that Dongchuan was already dead. He had been poisoned by the Crown Prince of Western Xiang, a ruthless and twisted man, and ultimately met his end riddled with arrows.

The Crown Prince had Dongchuan’s body transported back to the palace and preserved in an ice chamber to prevent decomposition. He even planned to send the corpse back to the Dongxiao Kingdom before the impending war, using it to provoke the Dongxiao Imperial Family and shatter their psychological defenses.

Unaware of this, Qing Wan fought her way into the palace’s secret chamber. There, she saw Dongchuan standing with his back to her. Ignoring her own bloodied state, she exclaimed joyfully, “Dongchuan! I finally found you!”

In that moment, despite being covered in blood, Qing Wan’s eyes sparkled with girlish delight.

But Dongchuan remained motionless, his back still turned.

Sensing something amiss, Qing Wan frowned and cautiously approached. She gently touched Dongchuan’s shoulder, only to find him ice-cold and lifeless.

Stunned, Qing Wan stood before Dongchuan, her mind replaying images of him in the peach blossom grove.

In those days, Dongchuan was full of youthful vigor. With his hands clasped behind his back, he smiled and said, “Qing Wan, I have feelings for you. But with the realm in turmoil, as a prince, I must prioritize the nation’s welfare. Once my brother and I unite the land, I will come to marry you. Will you wait for me?”

That day, Dongchuan’s eyes seemed to hold the stars themselves, and his smile radiated youthful brilliance.

Qing Wan stared at the man before her, his eyes tightly shut. A layer of frost seemed to cling to him, his face pale, his hands clenched tightly against his chest. She pried open his fingers, and a peach blossom, frozen in ice, fell from his grasp.

As the blossom fell, so did Qing Wan’s tears.

The scraping of armor outside the secret chamber’s window, the approaching footsteps of a large force surrounding them—none of it mattered to Qing Wan. With one hand gripping the bloodstained White Jade Sword and the other gently caressing Dongchuan’s cheek, she whispered, “Dongchuan, you mustn’t break your promise. I…”

Click!

“Tao Hui! Rebuild the emotion! This scene is a mix of grief and fury. Your hand on Dongchuan’s face should be a caress, not an attempt to strangle him!” Director Chen roared.

“Good!” Tao Hui startled, withdrawing her fingertips from Han Buji’s face. “I’m sorry, Director. I need to refocus on the emotion.”

Director Chen took a sip of tea and boomed, “And your blocking! What direction were you facing? You completely blocked the cameraman! Is that what I told you to do?”

“Ah! I… I understand,” Tao Hui said, scratching her head. She glanced back at the cameraman and apologized sheepishly, “Sorry, sorry. My blocking was off.”

Still dissatisfied, Director Chen pointed to the sword in Tao Hui’s hand. “And your sword! You’re an assassin. No matter what, you must grip your blade firmly!”

“Yes, yes, thank you for the guidance, Director,” Tao Hui nodded obediently, like a well-behaved child.

Director Chen’s shouting had silenced the set crew, leaving them quiet and still.

Han Buji, who had been playing dead, suddenly opened his eyes. In a voice only the two of them could hear, he remarked dryly, “Did you plan that blocking with your feet? I could probably walk on my hands upside down better than that.”

Tao Hui: “?”

Han Buji seemed to have thought of something, his mood brightening as a smile curved his lips. “Anyone who didn’t know better would think you were sleepwalking. And that sword in your hand? You wield it worse than the noodle knife at a Lanzhou ramen shop.”

Tao Hui: “???”

Wait, why does this sound so familiar?

Didn’t I say this exact thing to that little fanboy last night?

Utterly bewildered, Tao Hui could only draw one conclusion. She stared incredulously at Han Buji. “You… you were eavesdropping on me?”

Han Buji raised an eyebrow. “I overheard by accident.”

“Impossible! You live on the eighth floor! How could you ‘accidentally’ hear me from two floors away?” Tao Hui’s wits were sharp today, and she boldly confronted the Best Actor. “Besides, I was gaming past midnight yesterday. Don’t you think lurking outside a woman’s door to eavesdrop is downright creepy?”

Perhaps it was because they’d grown too comfortable with each other. After Movie Emperor Han stole her apple last time, he’d shamelessly mooched her water, hot pack, small blanket, gummy candies, and milk tea.

Over time, they’d rehearsed lines together, chatted casually, and even bonded over complaining about Director Chen’s increasingly volatile temper—wondering if it was due to menopause.

“You were quite loud. I could hear you clearly as I walked past the corridor,” Han Buji said with a smile, his expression unchanged.

“No way?” Tao Hui exclaimed, her eyes widening.

Despite her denial, Tao Hui already believed Han Buji’s explanation. Yesterday’s gaming session with her Little Fanboy had left her with a throbbing headache from anger, making it highly likely she hadn’t controlled her volume. Plus, the hotel’s soundproofing wasn’t great.

“Action! What’s with all the whispering?” Director Chen, unusually short-tempered today, planted his hands on his hips and roared again.

The crew chuckled. Tao Hui’s ears flushed crimson at being accused of whispering with Han Buji. In a sudden impulse, she shouted back, “Coming! We weren’t whispering!”

Tao Hui had always maintained a demure, obedient persona around elders, her voice soft and tinged with a smile. Her sudden outburst startled Director Chen so much that he nearly dropped his teacup.

Director Chen stared speechlessly for a long moment, the crew erupted in laughter, and even Han Buji’s lips twitched upward.

Embarrassed, Tao Hui muttered to Director Chen, “I must have caught your temper.”

After the production team’s brief commotion, filming resumed.

Click!

Qing Wan gently stroked Dongchuan’s face, her voice trembling slightly. “Dongchuan, you must keep your promise. Today, I will bathe the Western Xiang Imperial Palace in blood. Once I’ve slain my enemies, we’ll get married in King Yama’s Hall!”

As she finished speaking, the secret chamber door burst open, and the Crown Prince of Western Xiang led his troops to surround Qing Wan.

She lowered her gaze to the blood-soaked White Jade Sword in her hand and shifted it to her left.

The left-handed swordsmanship was Dongchuan’s martial art. Qing Wan suddenly looked up, her eyes blazing with cold determination. She smiled brilliantly at the endless sea of soldiers before her. “Dongchuan, look! So many people want to attend our wedding.”

With that, she charged into the ranks, her sword aimed straight at the Crown Prince.

Click! Absolutely perfect! The assistant director exclaimed excitedly.

Tao Hui lowered the prop sword, a single tear sliding down her cheek. She had become too immersed in the role, and a pang of sadness lingered in her heart.

“That’s a wrap! That’s a wrap!” The crew shouted happily, oblivious to Tao Hui’s emotions. “See you tomorrow, Tao Hui!”

Tao Hui nodded. “See you tomorrow.”

“Hui ah!” Zhou Xun arrived with Miao Miao, Gao Meng, and Wu Yue in tow.

Tao Hui was puzzling over this bizarre combination when Zhou Xun cheerfully announced, “I’m treating everyone today! Let’s take the Best Actor’s team out for a meal. Miao Miao and I were away recently, and they really looked after you. We should thank them properly.”

“Huh?” Tao Hui wiped the tears from the corner of her eye, her sadness completely gone. She turned to Han Buji.

At that moment, Tao Hui’s eyes were filled with longing, hoping Han Buji would say he was busy.

Seeing him every day on set and at the hotel, Tao Hui genuinely didn’t want to spend even a casual dinner with him.

Besides, she was itching to get back and carry her Little Fanboy through King’s Canyon in Honor of Kings. The humiliation of yesterday’s twelve-game losing streak still stung!

Meeting Tao Hui’s expectant gaze—”You’re busy today, right? You must be busy?”—Han Buji smiled and said, “Don’t worry, I’m completely free today.”

“Perfect! I already discussed it with Wu Yue,” Zhou Xun clapped his hands delightedly. “Movie Emperor Han and you don’t have any scenes tomorrow morning, so this is the perfect opportunity for us to catch up!”

Tao Hui turned to Zhou Xun. “Have you forgotten what you told me when I joined the production team? ‘Cherish your life, stay away from the Best Actor’?”

Miao Miao, arm-in-arm with Gao Meng, chimed in cheerfully, “Exactly! We can eat more. I picked this restaurant, so you have to try everything, sis. Their steamed sea bass is incredibly fresh!”

Tao Hui shot Miao Miao a look. “Weren’t you the one who said, ‘Beware of ulterior motives’? How did a stack of Han Buji’s autographed photos turn you into ‘sisters’ overnight?!”

Tao Hui watched the group’s festive mood with a blank expression, letting out a silent sigh.

When did this happen? she wondered. It’s not just me getting closer to Han Buji—even my manager and assistant are becoming chummy with his team.

Seizing a moment when no one was paying attention, Tao Hui casually walked over and nudged Han Buji with her elbow. “Let’s go. I’ve troubled you enough lately. My treat.”

Wu Yue circled the drinks table, then turned to Gao Meng. “Are you sure President Han wants to drink today? He hasn’t touched alcohol in over a year.”

Gao Meng picked up a bottle of 52% proof baijiu and nodded solemnly. “I’m certain.”

“I’ve always felt there’s something between you and President Han that I don’t know about. Lately, I’ve felt like you two are excluding me. Gao Meng, are you really not related to President Han?” Wu Yue asked, stroking his chin suspiciously.

Gao Meng smiled, glanced around, and leaned in to whisper, “During my interview, President Han only asked me one question. Do you know what it was?”

Wu Yue shook his head.

The entire company was curious about Gao Meng becoming President Han’s top assistant. After all, rumor had it that President Han hadn’t even looked at her resume; he’d hired her after asking just one question.

Clutching the bottle of baijiu, Gao Meng said mysteriously, “President Han asked me who my favorite female celebrity was.”

“Huh?” Wu Yue was completely bewildered. He couldn’t understand why Han Buji, who seemed utterly uninterested in gossip, would ask such a question.

“I said it was Tao Hui,” Gao Meng replied.

Author’s Note:

Wu Yue: Holy crap, I think I just stumbled upon a huge secret!