Did the Movie Emperor Blow His Cover Today? - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Tao Hui actually loved the hustle and bustle; otherwise, she wouldn’t have insisted on moving to such a lively neighborhood.

During her breaks, she’d listen to the elderly neighbors shouting across the courtyard, their voices echoing like surround sound: “Green onions are two cents cheaper! Hurry and buy some!” “There’s a vendor selling Northeastern rice at the gate—looks pretty good!” “Little Wang’s kid has grown so tall! Hahaha!” The lingering echoes filled the air.

But Tao Hui found this to be the true essence of human life—warm, lively, and just right.

With this in mind, Tao Hui had once hoped that a kind old grandmother would move into the empty apartment across from hers.

Ideally, someone with failing eyesight who couldn’t quite make out faces, who would occasionally knock on her door with homemade pickles or dumplings.

Today, her wish for a neighbor had come true—though not the kindly old grandmother she’d imagined, and certainly not someone with failing eyesight.

It was Han Buji, the only nemesis Tao Hui had ever been unable to tolerate or defeat in her twenty-one years.

Standing in the elevator, Tao Hui’s mind was a blank slate, her brain having long since evaporated under the day’s awkwardness, tension, surprise, and shock, leaving only an empty skull.

In a daze, Tao Hui stood silently in the elevator with Han Buji, the two of them staring blankly at each other for fifteen floors without a word.

Under Han Buji’s watchful gaze, she emerged from the elevator with stiff, mechanical steps, her body and mind utterly exhausted. She fumbled for her keys, unlocked the door, stepped inside, and slammed it shut behind her.

Leaning against the door, Tao Hui listened to the sound of it closing in the hallway. She pulled out her phone and texted Zhou Xun:

[ Sister Xun! Help! I need to move! Why does Han Buji live across from me?! I don’t want to be his neighbor! ]

After sending the message, Tao Hui sniffed, still convinced she could detect the lingering scent of cedar and sandalwood from Han Buji clinging to her nostrils. Grabbing her bathrobe, she retreated to the bathroom, muttering her life’s motto: “Rabbit fur meat, A-Zi, goose-take-marsh-day.”

After a hot shower, Tao Hui could only smell her own shower gel. The gloom in her heart had dissipated by half. If she weren’t so attached to the egg pancakes and fried dough sticks at the neighborhood entrance, she would have moved out immediately.

Tao Hui dried her hair with a soft pink towel. The screen of her phone, resting on the bedside table, lit up with two new messages.

One message was from Zhou Xun:

[ As far as I know, Han Buji has two villas in Beijing. They’re probably just temporary residences. You’ll be joining the production crew in a few days, so wait until you get back to observe him. In the meantime, be careful and avoid entering or leaving the neighborhood at the same time as him. ]

The other message was from Little Fanboy:

[ Teacher Tao, are you playing? ]

Tao Hui opened King’s Glory and saw that Little Fanboy was indeed online. When they played together, they usually used WeChat voice chat. Given the sensitive nature of her profession, it was better to risk being overheard by one person than by a group.

After a few rounds, Tao Hui hadn’t said much. A soft, gentle laugh came through her phone, followed by Little Fanboy’s warm, clear voice: “Teacher Tao, are you in a bad mood today? You’re so quiet.”

Having played with Little Fanboy often, Tao Hui occasionally chatted with him about non-game-related topics, careful to avoid revealing her true identity.

Tao Hui sighed softly. “An annoying neighbor moved in next door. It’s really bothering me.”

Little Fanboy was silent for a moment, clearing a wave of minions before cautiously asking, “Why do you find him annoying?”

Tao Hui couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a hint of caution in Little Fanboy’s voice, a muffled unease that left her feeling vaguely irritated.

Maybe I scared him by being so quiet today?

But explaining why she hated Han Buji wasn’t something she could sum up in a sentence or two.

“Maybe because… he’s a stumbling block on my career path,” Tao Hui said slowly, her gaze fixed on the little bee pattern on the bedsheet.

Little Fanboy didn’t reply, probably realizing that workplace issues were beyond his advice. After all, he was only nineteen, still a boy who hadn’t even left school.

After two rounds, Tao Hui’s focus faltered. She declined Little Fanboy’s invitation to continue and logged out.

Outside, night had fallen, and the city lights were beginning to twinkle. Leaning back against the fluffy pillows, Tao Hui gently touched her neck, pondering Little Fanboy’s question.

Why do I hate him?

Tao Hui had debuted at sixteen, and her career had soared effortlessly. With her long, jet-black hair and pure, endearing image, she had been cast in a youth film by the Director.

The film’s raw authenticity resonated with audiences, becoming a modest hit. Tao Hui herself was hailed by netizens as the “Nation’s First Love.”

Of course, there were skeptical netizens. After all, these days, trolls are everywhere. If you say 135, they’ll insist on 246.

So, marketing accounts jumped in, claiming Tao Hui’s face was too limiting, suitable only for pain-filled youth dramas, and that her future prospects were limited.

Freshly debuted and full of youthful pride, Tao Hui refused to back down. She rejected the lead role in another teen movie and instead took a supporting role in a crime thriller, reappearing on screen as a female police officer.

Her long hair was cut short, her style both fierce and cool. Though her acting still had room for improvement, she stunned netizens.

From then on, Tao Hui’s fanbase grew exponentially, and she was dubbed the “salty-sweet, never cloying rock candy girl” by fans.

Thanks to these two films, in her second year after debut, at the age of 18, Tao Hui won two awards at the film festival: Most Popular Newcomer and Most Promising Newcomer.

The memory of her triumphant moment still felt vivid. Yet before the trophies had even warmed in her hands, Tao Hui suffered a career-crushing setback, nearly torn apart by a storm of anti-fans.

This setback was Han Buji.

Tao Hui had just turned eighteen and, brimming with excitement, had traveled to Iceland alone. In Reykjavik, the capital, she booked the most luxurious hotel, kicked her feet up on the bed, and planned how to rent a car and set up a tent to wait for the Northern Lights—everything was perfect.

Her plans were ruined by the fact that Han Buji happened to be in Iceland at the same time, staying at the same hotel.

Tao Hui was so focused on checking the aurora forecast website for geomagnetic activity that she completely overlooked the other guests in the hotel.

After all, who goes on vacation to stare at other tourists? You’re supposed to be thinking about what to do and what to eat!

The Icelandic weather was bitterly cold. That morning, Tao Hui tossed all her belongings into the rental car, bundled up in a thick scarf and hat, and went back to the hotel for her last load of luggage. Just as she was leaving, a sudden gust of wind nearly slammed the hotel door shut.

Tao Hui, her hands full and flustered, was relieved when a tall man stepped in to hold the door open for her.

She nodded gratefully at the man, who was also bundled up in a scarf and hat, and then drove off in search of the Northern Lights.

The weather was so cold that Tao Hui’s phone froze and shut down automatically, but she didn’t think much of it at the time.

By the time she had finished admiring the aurora, taken enough photos, and carefully driven back to the hotel across the icy plains, it was already the next evening.

Tao Hui shed her thick winter coat, took a long, hot shower, and, hearing a knock at the door, casually slipped on a wool dress and opened it without suspicion.

Outside, a barrage of cameras and microphones was thrust at her, their lenses like dark, gaping holes. The reporters said nothing, snapping photos of Tao Hui relentlessly.

The flashes were blinding. Only then did Tao Hui belatedly cover her neck.

Later, when Tao Hui recalled those chaotic days, she felt as if she were reliving a hazy dream.

She remembered being picked up by her manager and brought back to China, only to find that all the film and television projects she had been negotiating had been snatched away. The internet was flooded with anti-fans and venomous comments, and her phone buzzed with gossip about her every three minutes.

Tao Hui hid in her apartment, afraid to go out or even go online. The photo that had gone viral showed the dimly lit hotel lobby at dawn, the warm orange glow of the lights illuminating two figures by the entrance: a tall man shielding a petite woman from the door.

Due to the angle, the two appeared very intimate.

Rumor had it that the man was Han Buji, the Best Actor award winner.

Both Han Buji and Tao Hui’s companies immediately issued official denials, but the coincidence was too glaring. Two domestic celebrities appearing at the same foreign hotel at the same time, both claiming not to know each other?

Netizens remained skeptical.

A certain segment of the public preferred the ripples and waves of controversy to the calm surface of normalcy.

Soon after, an old interview with Tao Hui resurfaced.

In the video, Tao Hui, dressed in a crisp police uniform, tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear with a slightly embarrassed smile. “The senior I admire most? I greatly admire Best Actor Han’s acting skills. I’ve watched many of his films, and I hope to emulate him in the future, using his example to push myself to work even harder.”

After this video went viral, Tao Hui was once again trending negatively. Rather than believing the two were dating, most people preferred to believe that the newcomer’s simultaneous appearance with the renowned Best Actor was a calculated move.

[ ~These newcomers these days have no shame. Claiming not to know Han Buji? You admire his acting but don’t know him? What a joke! LOL, XSWL! ]

[ ~Tao Hui, shameless clout-chaser! Get out of the entertainment industry! ]

[ ~Out of all the cities and hotels on Earth, she just happens to be in the same one as Han Buji? And she’s pretending not to know? Who believes that? Ugh! ]

[ ~Every two-bit nobody wants to hook up with my Brother and leech off his fame! Disgusting! ]

[ ~Tao Hui’s company’s statement didn’t explain the hickey on her neck. Where did that come from? Is she really sleeping with Han Buji? ]

[ ~What bullshit are you spouting? My Brother isn’t that kind of person! If Tao Hui can’t keep her legs closed, she shouldn’t drag our Brother into her mess! ]

[ ~+1! That hickey was definitely from someone else. My Brother’s company said he was only at the hotel for less than half an hour because he was busy filming! If they don’t explain, it’s because they’re guilty and afraid to! ]

[ ~Maybe it was Han Buji himself. They’re both trash! ]

[ ~Did you eat shit? Can’t you read the statement from my Brother’s company? Get lost! And keep trashing that shameless ‘Nation’s First Love’! ]

[ ~Tao Hui, get out of the entertainment industry! ‘Nation’s First Love’? What a joke! ]

[ ~That hickey is so dark! It must have been intense. Is she even legal? Minors these days are so bold! ]

Tao Hui was only eighteen at the time. The overwhelming online abuse felt more piercing than Iceland’s icy winds. Sobbing uncontrollably, she still wanted to apologize to Han Buji, who had also been subjected to vicious insults from irrational fans.

But what had Han Buji done wrong? He had merely kindly blocked the door for her.

The situation had escalated largely due to her interview that year and the “kiss mark” on her neck, captured by reporters who stormed the hotel.

Yet she had no explanation for the “kiss mark.”

As she cried, Tao Hui felt a pang of guilt. After all, Han Buji had been her idol. She had once stayed up past midnight just to snag tickets to his film premiere.

The eighteen-year-old Tao Hui, teary-eyed and sniffling, spent 130,000 yuan to buy Han Buji’s private phone number from a Weibo influencer. With a trembling hand, she dialed the number.

The first call went unanswered.

The second was hung up.

The third was also hung up.

He’s the Best Actor, after all. He must be busy, Tao Hui thought. Over the next few days, she called more than a dozen times. Finally, one afternoon, the call was answered.