Did the Movie Emperor Blow His Cover Today? - Chapter 25

Chapter 25

The chandelier in Han Buji’s home was anything but discreet. It was impossible to tell how many bulbs were crammed inside, but even without looking up, the light was blinding.

Tao Hui lay sprawled across Han Buji’s body, feeling his steady heartbeat and warm temperature…

This guy’s calmness is infuriating! His words just gave me a heart attack!

“Are you staying over tonight?”

Why ask this now? Was it because she’d pinned him down earlier with her knee, rendering him temporarily impotent? Was he planning to hold her hostage until morning? What if there was no morning wood to settle the score?

Or perhaps her dramatic collapse into his arms had finally been noticed by the narcissistic Han Buji. Had he mistaken her for throwing herself at him? Was he inviting her to stay for some adult… activities?

Tao Hui felt utterly disheveled, like a head of cabbage left exposed under Han Buji’s glaring lights.

Unexpectedly, Han Buji chuckled first, pushing himself up with a hand on the floor while helping Tao Hui sit upright.

They ended up facing each other on the wooden floor. Han Buji’s long legs were slightly bent, while Tao Hui sat between them, arms wrapped around her knees.

From a certain angle, Tao Hui looked like she was trapped between Han Buji’s legs, but neither of them seemed to notice anything unusual about this suggestive position.

Han Buji rubbed his sore head where he’d hit the floor, then smiled at Tao Hui’s furrowed brow. “That’s not what I meant. I was going to take you to a hotel, but when you threw yourself at me, I saw the mark on your neck. Do you think staying at a hotel might be… inappropriate?”

The combination of a hotel and the birthmark on Tao Hui’s neck was practically begging for gossip. With Han Buji driving her there, it would be the paparazzi’s dream scenario.

Tao Hui secretly sighed in relief as her tense shoulders relaxed. She stole a glance at Han Buji’s sleep pants and mumbled, “Um, are you okay?”

Han Buji glanced at her. “No, it really hurts.”

“Huh?” Tao Hui hadn’t expected that answer. She froze momentarily.

Wait, what? Don’t men always tough it out? Shouldn’t he be saying “I’m fine, it’s nothing”? Why is he actually complaining about pain?

But what could she do about the pain? If it were on his arm or thigh, she might have offered to check if it was serious.

Han Buji’s injury was precisely in that most vulnerable yet precious area. Tao Hui froze momentarily, her mouth agape. After a long pause, she managed to ask in a weak voice, “What should we do? Should we see a doctor? C-can you still move?”

The sponge-like tissue—men’s most fragile yet treasured region. Tao Hui’s heart raced with fear. What if she’d kneed the Best Actor and left him infertile? How much would she owe him in compensation?

Her palms grew sweaty with anxiety. In contrast, Han Buji shrugged it off casually. “No need. Who goes to the doctor for a bruised thigh?”

“Thigh?” Tao Hui suddenly realized she’d been staring transfixed at the Best Actor’s crotch. Adopting a theatrical tone, she sang, “Is it your thigh? Did my knee only hit your thigh? Oh, thank goodness… you scared me half to death!”

Watching Tao Hui clutch her chest and gasp, Han Buji suddenly asked with deliberate meaning, “Then where did you think you’d pressed?”

Where? Should I say I thought I crushed your Dingding and balls?

Absolutely not! She was a female celebrity too! She had to maintain her image!

Tao Hui cleared her throat and deftly changed the subject, pointing at the birthmark on her neck. “Han Buji, look. I have a birthmark here.”

Han Buji didn’t dwell on the previous question, his mood evident in the fleeting curve of his lips.

“You asked why I bought your phone at eighteen,” Tao Hui said, her gaze fixed on the wood grain pattern of the floor. “This is why. I couldn’t explain it properly back then.” She paused before continuing, “If I’d stood up and explained that the mark on my neck was a birthmark, not a love bite, you wouldn’t have been dragged into the criticism with me.”

That year, Tao Hui’s scandal had made headlines, and Han Buji hadn’t escaped unscathed. No matter how fierce Han Meimei and others fought back, or how clear Han Buji’s company statements were, some people would still believe the nonsense spread by marketing accounts.

Han Buji’s Weibo comments section had been flooded with vile insults.

If it had been a simple birthmark, Tao Hui should have come forward and clarified that it was a love bite. But she’d remained silent—enduring the abuse while quietly dragging Han Buji down with her.

Tao Hui lifted her head, her expression grave and sincere. “I’m sorry, Han Buji. I should have spoken up back then. But if given the chance again, I might still choose silence. I’m cowardly and weak. I fear revealing my birthmark would bring more trouble. I’m sorry.”

When she said “I’m sorry,” her brows knitted slightly. Her hand rested on her neck, fingertips unconsciously tracing the rose petal-shaped birthmark. The delicate skin flushed pale pink under her touch.

Han Buji stared at Tao Hui’s fingers resting on her neck, falling silent.

He suddenly recalled the time at the production team when Tao Hui had been burned. She’d held her injured arm, eyes red-rimmed, repeatedly assuring everyone, “I’m fine, really I’m fine.”

That had already pained him deeply. Now, seeing her trembling lashes and her forced bravado as she admitted her cowardice, it hurt even more.

She’d been just an eighteen-year-old girl when it happened. She’d gone to Iceland to celebrate her birthday, only to be falsely accused and hunted by the internet. They’d stripped her of everything she deserved.

Han Buji placed his hand on Tao Hui’s head, patting it gently. Like comforting a child, he murmured, “Don’t apologize. It’s all in the past.”

If only I’d found her sooner. If only I’d recognized her sooner.

Then I could have shielded her behind me, protected her from the storm.

Han Buji closed his eyes, remembering Tao Hui at eighteen—dressed in white skiing gear, standing beneath the blue-green aurora, like a lily blooming in the polar ice.

Even now, she was only twenty-one. While other girls her age were carefree students, debating dinner options and weekend plans in dorm rooms, Tao Hui had already weathered life’s dramatic ups and downs.

Tao Hui hated being consoled. Sniffing back tears, she said, “I know it’s all in the past. But Han Buji… did you ever think I was using that ‘kiss mark’ to ride your coattails?”

Han Buji recalled Wu Yue and the Public Relations Department’s analysis, shaking his head gently. “Never. Not then, not now. I believe you.”

“Thank you.” Tao Hui’s eyes burned with unshed tears as she murmured her gratitude.

“Why can’t your birthmark be made public?” Han Buji withdrew his hand, fingertips still tingling from her hair’s silkiness. “May I ask?”

Tao Hui shook her head. “Better not.”

Han Buji didn’t press, teasing instead: “Not close enough?”

Tao Hui, initially flustered, smiled at his grin. “Exactly. Not close enough.”

“I’m a bit curious about something. What should I do?” Han Buji put on a thoughtful expression, paused for two seconds, then suddenly said, “Well then, let’s start building our relationship from now on.”

Tao Hui was taken aback. “Build our relationship? What kind of relationship? Do you want to be my brother?”

Han Buji stood up, laughing in exasperation at Tao Hui’s words. He extended his hand. “Come on, big brother, let me pull you up?”

Tao Hui lifted her head, gazing at Han Buji’s palm with its clean, unblemished lines.

The Dean Mom had once said that people with clear palm lines have pure intentions. She placed her hand on his and sighed. “Fine.”

Guided by Han Buji’s strength, Tao Hui rose to her feet. The living room lights were blindingly bright. With a smile, she said, “Then let’s get to know each other from now on.”

“I’ll show you to the guest room.” Han Buji walked ahead two steps before turning back, waving his phone. “So, do you like this kind of man?”

The screen showed a video screenshot of Li Sijin, the Chuan Yu tycoon, with his mouth open wide and eyes squinted.

To be honest, Li Sijin originally looked quite like a Korean oppa—small, single-fold eyes giving him a handsome appearance.

But in this screenshot, Tao Hui had to strain to recognize Li Sijin. Was this really the best angle to capture him?

The man’s eyes were already small, but in this screenshot, with his mouth open and face stretched out, he looked like a bull terrier.

Tao Hui stared at the photo for too long, and Han Buji clicked his tongue impatiently.

“I don’t like him. Not just that—I find his personality really annoying,” Tao Hui said. “I don’t like people with bad tempers.”

“Oh, really annoying?” Han Buji tossed his phone twice, clearly in a good mood.

In the next moment, Tao Hui bounced up the stairs and asked without a care, “What’s this about? Are you trying to set me up with a boyfriend?”

The Best Actor’s good mood vanished like smoke.

Han Buji glanced back at Tao Hui and turned off the upstairs light. “Don’t get me mad.”

Tao Hui’s attention was momentarily drawn by the sound of the light switch. She didn’t catch what Han Buji said and chased after him. “What? What did you just say?”

“Nothing,” Han Buji said.

Tao Hui stared suspiciously at his back. “Did you secretly insult me?”

“No.”

“Then what did you say?”

“Nothing.”

“Hey! I heard you! You were talking about me, weren’t you?”

“No, don’t make things up.”

“Then are you trying to set me up with a boyfriend?”

“No!”

“What did you say then? I’m really curious, Han Buji.”

“It’s a secret.”

“Come on, share! Didn’t you say we should get closer by sharing things?”

“Right.”

As a qualified personal assistant, Gao Meng delivered ironed clothes and company documents to Han Buji’s home every morning at 6 a.m.

This day was no different. Gao Meng hummed a tune, then turned to stare at the door across the hall before knocking. A giant paper image of the wealth-bringing God of Fortune hung on the opposite door.

This is it! This is our Rabbit’s door!

Gao Meng suppressed her excitement, adopting a professional demeanor before politely knocking on Han Buji’s door.

After a long pause, a muffled sound came from inside. It sounded like someone was peering through the peephole.

Since when did President Han become so cautious?

While Gao Meng pondered this, the door opened. She looked up to see Tao Hui, bleary-eyed and dressed in baggy sportswear. The pant legs were rolled twice but still pooled on the floor, sleeves dragging like theatrical robes.

Rabbit! Rabbit wearing President Han’s clothes!

Gao Meng’s mind froze.

And there was something suspiciously pink around Rabbit’s neck!

Tao Hui, oblivious to the question marks filling Gao Meng’s mind, turned back inside the apartment as if in a trance.

Gao Meng looked up to see Han Buji standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. “Aren’t you coming in?” he asked.

“Coming, coming!” Gao Meng darted inside. Her eyes lit up as she watched Tao Hui’s weary back. She pulled out a small bottle of emergency heart pills, emptied its contents into her mouth, then asked with a mouthful of candy, “Boss, yesterday… was it… really intense with Rabbit?”

Han Buji touched his still-aching head, remembering how Tao Hui had rushed over like she was riding on a pair of wind fire wheels. He chuckled softly, “Yes, it was… exceptionally intense.”

Author’s Note:

Tao Hui: Oh.