Did the Movie Emperor Blow His Cover Today? - Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Tao Hui had grown close to Han Buji and his team lately, occasionally squatting with them on set to share box lunches or crew meals. Normally, everyone was quite refined.

But when they went out for a formal dinner with the Best Actor’s team, she was astonished to discover that they were all… surprisingly heavy drinkers?

Gao Meng dragged Miao Miao into the fray, while Wu Yue pulled Zhou Xun along. Before long, they were all thoroughly drunk.

By the time half the dishes on the table had been cleared, Miao Miao was already standing on her chair, dramatically reenacting her food poisoning ordeal. “It was terrifying!” she proclaimed loudly. “I felt like my shit was about to explode out of my ass, but I also wanted to puke! I was so miserable, trying to decide whether to shit or vomit first—that was the real dilemma!”

Tao Hui glanced awkwardly at Han Buji beside her, pressed her hand to her forehead, and muttered, “I’m not even that close to Miao Miao…”

Tao Hui herself wasn’t drinking. Normally, she had a high threshold for tears, but there were only two things that could make her cry uncontrollably: hearing comforting words when she was feeling wronged, and alcohol.

Back when her high school class went out for their graduation dinner, Tao Hui drank a single bottle of beer and somehow transformed the joyous atmosphere of tearing up textbooks and study materials after the college entrance exams into a scene straight out of a breakup drama. One by one, her classmates joined her in wailing at the roadside stall, eventually attracting the attention of the police.

Han Buji sipped his white wine slowly, occasionally using serving chopsticks to place food on Tao Hui’s plate.

Tao Hui glanced at Han Buji with a complicated expression. When he wasn’t working, he dressed in casual wear or plain hoodies, looking like a recent college graduate. Most importantly, he never forgot to maintain his public persona, even while eating.

He kept serving her spicy dishes like maoxuewang (spicy blood curd stew), shuizhu yu (poached fish in chili oil), and hongyou bao daxia (stir-fried prawns in red chili oil), while he himself ate bland fare like millet congee with sea cucumber, stir-fried lotus root, and steamed scallops with vermicelli.

Tsk, can’t let the Beijing persona crumble, huh?

Tao Hui picked up a mouthful of maoxuewang and mumbled through her mouthful, “Han Buji, aren’t you tired of this? Why force yourself to eat bland food? I won’t tell anyone.”

Han Buji had spotted a particular stone among the props on set and asked a staff member about it. He learned it was labradorite, available on Taobao, and was currently searching for it on the shopping app. Startled by Tao Hui’s words, he looked up. “Hmm?”

As he spoke, his fingers accidentally typed “lachangs” into the search bar.

Tao Hui glanced at Han Buji’s phone screen, which now displayed “Sichuan Sausage.” She curled her lip. “We’re all friends here. It’s okay if you eat something spicy. I really won’t tell anyone.”

Han Buji responded only to her first sentence, smiling as he asked, “One of us?”

Tao Hui was about to reply when she bit into a Sichuan peppercorn hidden in a slice of tripe. Her face flushed instantly with the fiery heat.

If Miao Miao had been sitting beside her, Tao Hui would have thrown caution to the wind and yelled, “Water! Water! It’s burning!”

But Han Buji was the one beside her.

She couldn’t lose face now!

Tears streamed down Tao Hui’s face from the burning sensation. Through teary eyes, she grabbed a full glass from the table and, under Han Buji’s astonished gaze, drained it in one gulp.

She grimaced and bared her teeth from the lingering heat.

After a full ten seconds of silent suffering, Tao Hui finally stammered, “Was that… baijiu?”

Even the Best Actor seemed taken aback by a girl chugging liquor. His expression was complex as he handed her a glass of warm water, explaining, “That was my glass.”

Tao Hui said nothing, meekly accepting the warm water and sipping it slowly.

The 52-proof baijiu had burned like molten steel going down, her internal organs screaming with heat.

The warm water did little to quench the fire; instead, her head began to spin.

Tao Hui glanced desperately at Zhou Xun and Miao Miao. Through her drunken haze, she could see Sister Xun slurring his words and Miao Miao’s face as red as the braised fish on the table—both in worse shape than she was.

Han Buji had already ordered a glass of honey water for Tao Hui, his expression gentle as he asked, “Tao Hui, would you like some honey water? Do you usually drink alcohol? Are you allergic to anything?”

Perhaps she really was drunk. Why did Han Buji’s phoenix eyes shine with such tenderness and warmth?

Tao Hui shook her head, pointed at Han Buji, her eyes filled with confusion. “Tell me… what kind of person are you, really?”

Han Buji looked at Tao Hui and asked, “What kind of person do you think I am?”

Tao Hui tugged at the turtleneck of her sweater, muttering, “It’s so hot… why is it so hot? And why do you always answer my questions with questions? Han Buji does the same thing, always turning my questions back on me.”

The massive crystal chandelier overhead was dazzlingly bright, making Tao Hui feel dizzy.

The six of them were dining in a banquet room that could accommodate 18-20 people. The other four at the table were busy playing drinking games, too engrossed to pay attention to Han Buji and Tao Hui.

Han Buji frowned and waved his hand in front of Tao Hui’s face. “Tao Hui, who am I?”

“Hmm?” Tao Hui set down her glass of honey water and leaned closer to Han Buji, as if trying to see him more clearly. She even reached out with her hand, still warm from holding the glass, and lazily caught the fingertip he was waving in front of her. “Who are you?” she murmured.

Han Buji glanced at the fair hand gripping his fingertip. Since they were filming a historical drama, Tao Hui’s nails were coated with only a layer of clear protective polish, giving them a delicate pinkish-white hue.

“I’m Han Buji,” he said softly.

“Oh, Han Buji,” Tao Hui murmured, furrowing her brow in thought. “Our first meeting was quite awkward, wasn’t it?”

She was likely recalling the time she had drawn a turtle (bastard) on a promotional poster, only to be caught in the act by Han Buji. Tao Hui frowned in displeasure. “So embarrassing.”

As she spoke, a faint aroma of wine mingled with the sweetness of honey wafted from her lips. Her lips, flushed crimson from the spicy food she had eaten earlier, looked particularly alluring.

Han Buji extended his free hand and gently pushed Tao Hui back by tapping her forehead with his index finger. “Tao Hui,” he said helplessly, “you really can’t handle alcohol.”

Undeterred by the distance, Tao Hui leaned in again, her voice conspiratorial. “Oh, that wasn’t our first meeting. The first time I saw Han Buji, I didn’t recognize him. It was in Iceland, at a hotel in Reykjavik. He helped me carry my suitcase.”

Han Buji glanced at the group of four holding hands as they headed to the restroom. He gently patted Tao Hui’s head and said, “You’re mistaken. We met a long, long time ago, more than once. You just forgot, Tao Hui. The first time I saw you, you were only fourteen.”

Though both were seated, Tao Hui was still shorter than Han Buji. Leaning forward to get closer, she had to tilt her head back to see his face clearly.

Han Buji’s words were spoken with such tenderness that her alcohol-addled brain finally started acting up. Even though she didn’t understand what he meant by “fourteen,” her eyes suddenly stung, and tears streamed down her face.

Whenever Tao Hui drank, she inevitably remembered all the petty grievances she usually kept hidden in her heart, crying until she fell asleep.

Tears streaming, she clutched Han Buji’s hand and wailed miserably, “If only I’d never met Han Buji… I really want to be a good actress. If it weren’t for my decent looks, I might have been unemployed by eighteen. I’m so pathetic, hic.”

Han Buji watched Tao Hui, who was now crying so hard she was hiccuping, and flexed his fingers. “So, you wish you’d never met me?”

He gently wiped away the tears from the corner of Tao Hui’s eye and asked, “Is that true? You wish you’d never met me?”

Tao Hui seemed to be grappling with a difficult question. She shook her head, pondering for a long moment before suddenly looking up, sobbing, “Those Han Meimeis are so cruel! They’ve been scolding me to death! I’m so miserable, waaaah!”

Han Buji chuckled, watching Tao Hui’s dramatic display of self-pity. So this was what she was like when drunk—a little kid tattling to her parents?

Unsure how to comfort the tipsy girl, Han Buji took a tissue to wipe away her tears and gently patted her head. “Don’t cry, sweetie. From now on, if anyone scolds you, I’ll stand in front of you, okay?”

The sobbing Tao Hui looked up at Han Buji, her gaze silent.

Three seconds later, Tao Hui erupted into a thunderous wail that made the Best Actor’s fingertips tremble.

For the first time in his 27 years, Han Buji faced a real dilemma: how to soothe a girl who was crying uncontrollably after drinking too much? Help needed urgently!

He never would have guessed that someone who usually seemed so carefree could harbor so much pent-up frustration, crying so hard she couldn’t stop. And the more he tried to comfort her, the worse she cried?

Gao Meng poked half her head through the door, issuing a stern warning: “Boss, if you’re bullying Rabbit, I’ll fight you to the death!”

Han Buji watched Tao Hui, who was now yawning between sobs, and sighed. “Let’s call a driver and go back. Your Rabbit’s cried herself out.”

Gao Meng glanced at Tao Hui’s tear-streaked face and red-rimmed eyes, clutching her heart as she imagined a scene of a domineering CEO forcing a kiss.

As Han Buji’s reliable assistant, Gao Meng had already arranged for a driver, paying double to have them waiting downstairs.

Han Buji carried Tao Hui to the back seat of the car and settled in beside her. Before he could even buckle his seatbelt, Tao Hui, limp as a boneless eel, clung to his arm and leaned against him. “Dean Sister, where are we going?” she murmured.

“…Back to the hotel,” Han Buji replied helplessly.

The tipsy girl nodded obediently, nuzzling her forehead against his arm like an affectionate puppy. “Okay, Dean Sister,” she mumbled.

Han Buji, who had also had a few drinks, felt his temper rising from Tao Hui’s clinging. He grabbed a bottle of ice-cold mineral water from the car and gulped down most of it before tapping her forehead. “Alright, I’ll play the role of a proper Dean Sister for today.”

He had originally planned to have a serious talk with Tao Hui tonight. She had recently become less guarded around him, but their relationship hadn’t progressed any further.

Han Buji wanted to ask Tao Hui why she was so convinced he was from Sichuan-Chongqing and why she thought he had such a fiery temper.

But the young woman downed a glass of baijiu and got so drunk she couldn’t even hold a coherent conversation.

When they arrived at the hotel, Tao Hui was still asleep. Han Buji draped his jacket over her and turned to Gao Meng, who had been pretending to be drunk earlier but was now alert enough to head straight to a company meeting. “I’ll take her to your room. Can you look after her?”

Gao Meng watched her boss lift her idol into his arms again, so thrilled she felt like running a marathon. Clutching her chest, her eyes sparkled. “Boss, why don’t you take care of Rabbit yourself?”

Han Buji glanced at Gao Meng and chuckled. “Good idea, but maybe next time.”

He laid Tao Hui on Gao Meng’s bed. She shifted uncomfortably, then suddenly opened her eyes, looked at Han Buji, and said clearly, “Cherish life, stay away from the Best Actor.”

“Huh?” Han Buji paused, then laughed, reaching out to tap Tao Hui’s forehead like teasing a child. “How can you stay away? Hmm?”

So, even though I’m always around, this little girl is still thinking about avoiding me?

Ungrateful brat! Who’s been working tirelessly to pave the way for your career all this time? And now you’re chanting slogans to stay away from me like some cult member?

Tao Hui, her eyes still pink from crying, tilted her head and thought for a moment. “We’ll just… not talk to each other. Like strangers!”

“Alright,” Han Buji chuckled, pointing at her. “Want to be strangers? Then we’ll be strangers.”

It was meant as a joke, but the tipsy Tao Hui suddenly grabbed his fingertip, looking a little anxious. “Three days. Just three days. We’ll break up for three days—you won’t play with me, and I won’t play with you. After three days, we’ll make up. Three days, you know? Seventy-two hours. Not a minute more…”

Tao Hui mumbled, her words sounding like a childish “breakup declaration” from elementary school.

But Han Buji listened intently. When she finished, he smiled indulgently and said, “Whatever you want.”

After finally coaxing Tao Hui to sleep, Han Buji turned to see Gao Meng rummaging through the Quick-Acting Heart-Relieving Pills.

Gao Meng pointed at a bruise on her arm, muttering, “Mommy, I’m not dreaming! My arm really hurts from being pinched. It’s so painful! This isn’t a dream. Our ‘No Way CP’ finally gave us some sugar today! ‘No Way CP’ is too good!”

Han Buji glanced at Gao Meng. “You should take your medicine.”

“Yes, Boss,” Gao Meng said, popping a small, candy-like pill from the Quick-Acting Heart-Relieving Pill bottle into her mouth. “This couple is too sweet! I’ll love them forever! Aaaaaah!”

Han Buji returned to his room, tossed his hoodie aside, its sleeves still carrying Tao Hui’s perfume—grapefruit and lychee.

Does Tao Hui really like fruity scents?

He stepped into the bathroom and stood under the warm water, slowly recalling his first encounter with Tao Hui.

It had been seven years ago. The day was a blur; the icy river water had nearly suffocated him. Someone had been pressing repeatedly on his chest.

She had said, “Wake up! Wake up! Don’t sleep! You’re so young! You haven’t tasted so many delicious foods yet, you haven’t bought a whole carload of green apples! Green apples are especially delicious—you have to try them! You have to live! Wake up!”

The water streamed down Han Buji’s muscular frame. He stood in the shower and suddenly smiled.

Those weren’t exactly compelling reasons to live, but they had somehow roused him.

He thought of the shriveled apple on his desk and chuckled to himself, I’ve tasted it now. It really is delicious.