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

Chapter 25

Han Buji’s chandelier was anything but subtle. She wondered how many light bulbs he’d crammed into it; even without looking up, the glare was almost blinding.

Tao Hui lay sprawled across Han Buji, feeling his steady heartbeat and the warmth of his body.

This guy’s so calm? she thought. I was terrified by what he said!

Are you staying tonight?

Why would he ask that now? Was it because she’d accidentally knee-pressed him into a state of non-arousal, and he wanted to keep her as a hostage? So he could settle the score in the morning if he didn’t get his morning wood?

Or was it that her dramatic embrace had finally been misinterpreted by the narcissistic Han Buji as a deliberate seduction? Was he keeping her around for some adult-themed activities?

Tao Hui felt utterly discombobulated, her thoughts as tangled as a cabbage under the glaring lights of Han Buji’s apartment.

Unexpectedly, Han Buji chuckled after asking the question. He pushed himself up from the floor, casually helping Tao Hui sit up as well.

They sat facing each other on the hardwood floor. Han Buji’s long legs were slightly bent, while Tao Hui sat between them, hugging her knees to her chest.

From a certain angle, it looked as if Tao Hui were trapped between Han Buji’s legs, but neither of them seemed to notice anything inappropriate about their ambiguous posture.

Han Buji rubbed the back of his head, which was throbbing from the impact, and chuckled at Tao Hui’s crumpled, conflicted expression. “That’s not what I meant. I was going to take you to a hotel, but when you lunged at me, I noticed the mark on your neck. Wouldn’t going to a hotel be a bit… awkward?”

The combination of a hotel and the birthmark on Tao Hui’s neck would undoubtedly spark gossip. Add Han Buji escorting her, and it would be a paparazzi’s dream come true.

Hearing Han Buji’s explanation, Tao Hui secretly let out a sigh of relief, her tense shoulders relaxing. She glanced at Han Buji’s pajama pants and mumbled, “Um, are you okay from earlier?”

Han Buji shot her a look. “Okay? It hurt like hell.”

“Huh?” Tao Hui was taken aback by his blunt answer, momentarily stunned.

Wait, what’s going on? Aren’t guys supposed to be tough and deny any pain? Shouldn’t he be saying, ‘I’m fine, I’m great, I didn’t feel a thing’ instead of admitting it hurts?

But what could she do about the pain? If he’d hurt his arm or leg, Tao Hui could have offered to check the severity of the injury.

Han Buji had been injured in that particular area. Tao Hui froze, her mouth agape, unsure what to say. Finally, she whispered, “What should we do? Should we see a doctor? Can you… can you still move?”

The corpus cavernosum? The most precious and vulnerable part of a man’s body! Tao Hui felt a wave of panic. What if she had accidentally rendered the Best Actor infertile with a single knee strike? How much compensation would that cost?

While her palms sweated with fear, Han Buji casually dismissed her concern. “No need. Who goes to the doctor for a bruised thigh?”

“Thigh?” Tao Hui hadn’t realized she was staring intently at the Best Actor’s crotch, like a curious cat. In a singsong voice, she asked, “Just your thigh? My knee only hit your thigh? Oh, thank goodness! You scared me half to death…”

Watching Tao Hui pat her chest in relief, Han Buji suddenly had an idea. He asked meaningfully, “So, what did you think you hit?”

What did I think I hit? Am I supposed to say I thought I crushed your Ding Ding and your… you know?

Absolutely not!

I’m a female celebrity! I have an image to maintain!

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

Han Buji didn’t dwell on the earlier question, but the brief upturn of his lips betrayed his good mood.

“You asked why I bought your phone when I was eighteen? It was because of this,” Tao Hui said, her gaze dropping to the wood grain on the floor. “If I had spoken up then and explained that it was a birthmark, not a kiss mark, you wouldn’t have been dragged into the backlash.”

That year, Tao Hui was vilified on social media, and Han Buji wasn’t entirely spared either. No matter how fierce the Han Meimei fan group fought back, or how clear Han Buji’s company’s official statements were, some people still clung to their preconceived notions after reading the marketing accounts’ fabricated stories.

Han Buji’s Weibo was flooded with viciously abusive comments.

If it had been just an ordinary birthmark, Tao Hui should have publicly clarified that it was merely a kiss mark.

Yet she remained silent throughout the ordeal, silently enduring the abuse and silently dragging Han Buji down with her.

Tao Hui lifted her head, her expression earnest and solemn. “I’m sorry, Han Buji. I really should have spoken up back then. But if I had to choose again, I might still have remained silent. I’m such a coward. I was afraid revealing my birthmark would cause trouble. I’m sorry.”

When she apologized, her brow furrowed slightly, her hand resting on her neck. Her fingertips unconsciously traced the rose petal-shaped birthmark there, the skin so delicate that it quickly flushed a faint pink from her touch.

Han Buji stared at Tao Hui’s hand on her neck, silent.

He suddenly remembered the time on set when Tao Hui had been burned. She had held up her scalded arm, her eyes rimmed with red, repeatedly assuring everyone around her, “I’m fine, really, I’m fine.”

He had felt deeply sorry for her then, but now, watching her lowered lashes tremble slightly as she feigned nonchalance while admitting her cowardice, his heart ached even more.

She had been just an eighteen-year-old girl when the incident occurred, reportedly celebrating her birthday in Iceland. Instead, she had been falsely accused and subjected to a relentless online backlash, cruelly stripping her of everything she deserved.

Han Buji placed his hand on Tao Hui’s head and gently patted it, as if comforting a child. “Don’t apologize,” he murmured softly. “It’s all in the past now.”

If only I had found her sooner, he thought. If only I had recognized her earlier.

Then he could have shielded her, protecting her from the storm.

Han Buji closed his eyes, remembering Tao Hui at eighteen, standing beneath the shimmering blue-green aurora in a white ski suit, like a lily blooming in the Arctic.

Even now, she was only twenty-one. While other girls her age were still carefree students, lounging on dorm beds pondering dinner plans and vacation destinations, Tao Hui had already weathered the dramatic highs and lows of life.

Tao Hui couldn’t stand being comforted gently. She sniffled and asked, “Han Buji, did you guys ever think I was using you for clout by not explaining the ‘kiss mark’ back then?”

Han Buji recalled Wu Yue and the Public Relations Department’s analysis and shook his head gently. “At least, I never thought that way. Not then, not now, not ever. I believe in you.”

“Thank you,” Tao Hui murmured, her eyes stinging slightly.

“Why can’t you reveal your birthmark? Can I ask?” Han Buji withdrew his hand, his fingertips still tingling with the silkiness of Tao Hui’s hair.

Tao Hui shook her head. “Not really.”

Han Buji didn’t press further, teasing, “What, not close enough?”

Tao Hui, who had been feeling a bit embarrassed, saw Han Buji’s smile and playfully retorted, “Exactly, not close enough.”

“I’m curious about what to do now,” Han Buji said, feigning deep thought. After a moment of silence, he suddenly declared, “Let’s start building our relationship right now.”

Tao Hui blinked in surprise. “Build our relationship? What kind of relationship? Do you want to be my brother?”

Han Buji stood up, amused by Tao Hui’s reaction. He extended his hand. “Come on. Let big bro give you a hand?”

Tao Hui tilted her head, studying Han Buji’s palm. The lines were clean and clear.

Dean Sister had always said that people with clean palm lines had pure intentions. Tao Hui placed her hand in his and sighed. “Fine.”

With Han Buji’s help, Tao Hui stood up. The living room lights were blindingly bright. She smiled. “Then let’s start getting to know each other right now.”

“I’ll show you to the guest room,” Han Buji said, leading the way. After a few steps, he turned back, holding up his phone. “So, you like men like this?”

The screenshot on Han Buji’s phone showed Li Sijin, the Sichuan-Chongqing tycoon, with his mouth agape and his eyes squinted into narrow slits.

To be fair, Li Sijin usually looked quite handsome, like a Korean oppa with his small, monolid eyes.

But in this screenshot, Tao Hui struggled to recognize him. How could he capture someone looking so awful?

His eyes were already small, but in this screenshot, they looked even tinier, his mouth agape, and his face stretched into an absurdly long shape, like a bull terrier.

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

“I don’t like him. Not only do I not like him, but I find his personality really annoying,” Tao Hui said. “I can’t stand people with bad tempers.”

“Oh, really annoying, huh?” Han Buji tossed his phone up and down, his mood noticeably brightening.

The next moment, Tao Hui bounced down the stairs, asking innocently, “What’s this? Are you trying to set me up with a boyfriend?”

The Best Actor’s good mood vanished into thin air.

Han Buji glanced back at Tao Hui and switched off the upstairs lights. “Stop teasing me.”

Tao Hui’s attention was momentarily drawn to the sound of the lights going off, and she didn’t quite catch what Han Buji had said. She hurried after him, asking, “What? What did you just say?”

“Nothing,” Han Buji replied.

Tao Hui eyed his retreating figure suspiciously. “Were you secretly insulting me?”

“No.”

“Then what did you say?”

“Nothing.”

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

“No, stop imagining things.”

“Then were 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, tell me! Weren’t we supposed to be getting to know each other better?”

“Oh.”

As a model assistant, Gao Meng faithfully delivered Han Buji’s freshly ironed clothes and company documents to his home at precisely 6:00 AM every day.

This morning was no different. Humming a tune, Gao Meng paused before knocking, glancing at the opposite door. A massive image of the God of Wealth was plastered across it.

Excitement! That’s Rabbit’s door!

Suppressing her excitement, Gao Meng adopted the detached expression of a corporate drone and politely knocked on Han Buji’s door.

After a long wait, rustling sounds came from inside, as if someone were peering through the peephole.

When did President Han become so cautious?

As Gao Meng pondered this, the door creaked open. She looked up and saw a sleepy-eyed Tao Hui standing there, wearing an oversized tracksuit. The pant legs were rolled up twice but still dragged on the floor, while the sleeves hung down like theatrical robes.

Rabbit, wearing President Han’s clothes!

Gao Meng’s brain short-circuited.

And there was a suspicious pink mark on Rabbit’s neck!

Tao Hui, oblivious to the exclamation marks flashing in Gao Meng’s mind, turned and shuffled back inside like a sleepwalker.

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

“Coming, coming, coming!” Gao Meng darted into the room, her eyes gleaming as she gazed at Tao Hui’s exhausted figure. She pulled out a small bottle of Quick-Acting Heart-Relieving Pills and dumped all the sugar-coated pills into her mouth. With her cheeks puffed out, she whispered, “Boss, yesterday… were you and Rabbit… really wild?”

Han Buji rubbed the back of his head, which still throbbed faintly. Recalling how Tao Hui had pounced on him like she was riding a flaming wheel, he chuckled softly. “Mm, pretty wild.”