Did the Movie Emperor Blow His Cover Today? - Chapter 42

Chapter 42

“Han Buji, haven’t I seen you somewhere before?”

Han Buji glanced back. Tao Hui stood in the snow, still in her black tracksuit, facing the morning sun. The sunlight illuminated her beautiful eyes, and her hair was pulled into a neat bun with a few stray strands framing her forehead.

Apart from the fading girlishness and the slight plumpness of her cheeks, every expression and gesture perfectly mirrored the girl he remembered from that sunset beach. Even the hint of confusion and bewilderment in her eyes remained unchanged.

Han Buji glanced at Xu Chang and Tang Qingqing approaching from a distance, stretching lazily as they drew closer. He realized this wasn’t the right time for a serious conversation.

We can talk about this later, he thought.

He smiled, subtly masking the nostalgic look on his face. Adopting a teasing tone, he said with a grin, “Where haven’t you seen me? Am I not famous anymore?”

“?” Tao Hui’s confusion instantly returned. She shook her head and pointed toward the convenience store outside. “I think Lu Teng is a bit more famous around here.”

Xu Chang, who had just arrived, overheard her remark and threw an arm around Han Buji’s shoulder. “Brother Han, Lu Teng’s instant noodle commercial has been raking in middle-aged female fans! Yesterday, I saw the kitchen auntie giving him a huge piece of meat in his bone broth, while mine was all potatoes! Should you do an instant noodle commercial too?”

Lu Teng’s instant noodle commercial look was unique, with hair clips shaped like braised beef topping his head.

“…No, thank you,” Han Buji said with a polite nod.

That morning at the Snow Village Filming Base, the final segment of the variety show was being filmed. The teams had to piece together clues found in the second segment to crack a code that would open a treasure chest. The first team to succeed would win.

Tao Hui clutched her pitiful three envelopes, watching the other three teams grab handfuls of clues. Even opening the envelopes took them a considerable amount of time.

“Xu Chang, can you help me open some? These envelopes are tearing up my manicure!” Tang Qingqing said, slapping Xu Chang on the head with a stack of envelopes.

“Mr. S said he was wearing a blue hat. Mr. R said Mr. S was lying. Mr. Y said he wasn’t the one wearing the blue hat…” Lu Teng stared blankly at the clues, turning to Fe Sili. “Sili, I wish my partner was fluent in Chinese!”

Meng Xianying opened an envelope, marked it, and handed it to Li Sijin. “I think this information is useful!”

The other three teams were buzzing with activity, chatting and working simultaneously in a lively atmosphere.

Tao Hui: “……”

I don’t understand the joys of the wealthy; I’m just a poor person with three envelopes.

The production team gave the four teams ample time to open their envelopes and organize their clues. A large screen displayed each team’s progress. The other teams were so busy sorting and analyzing clues that they didn’t even have time to look up. Lu Teng even asked a staff member for scratch paper to start doing math.

Only Han Buji and Tao Hui sat idle, each with a sponsor-provided yogurt drink dangling from their lips.

Bored out of her mind, Tao Hui sat there folding paper airplanes out of the envelopes.

The three clue strips lay on the table, offering little to analyze. They all contained essentially the same message:

[ Clues #12, 37, 39, and 96 are fake. ] 

[ Clues #26, 52, 71, and 83 are fake. ] 

[ Clues #14, 22, 25, and 66 are fake. ] 

Tao Hui glanced at the three clue strips on the table. Each strip had a number printed beneath it. If the clues indicated that #96 was fake, that meant the production team had hidden at least ninety-something clues throughout Snow Village.

And thanks to her brilliant intellect, she had managed to find… three.

“Sigh…” Tao Hui smoothed the last wing of her paper airplane between her fingers, tilted her head, and first nodded toward the other three groups, who were deep in heated discussion. Then, closing one eye, she aimed the plane at Han Buji and asked softly, “Han Buji, tell me honestly, do you regret choosing me?”

Han Buji was also meticulously folding his clue envelope. He looked up only when he heard Tao Hui’s question, opened his palm, and gazed at her with his deep, affectionate phoenix eyes. “No regrets,” he said earnestly. “I’m very happy.”

Lying in his palm was a freshly folded, tiny heart made from the red envelope paper.

Every crease was precise, revealing the care Han Buji had taken in folding it. Tao Hui blinked, glanced at the other three groups, and then, feeling rather embarrassed, took the delicate paper heart from his hand and tucked it into her down jacket pocket.

As a child, she had always loved these little paper hearts. Back then, no one at her village elementary school knew how to fold them. She had only ever seen one on her homeroom teacher’s desk, tucked into a photo of the teacher and her partner—a tiny heart folded from a red one-mao bill.

To see that paper-folded heart, Tao Hui often found excuses to visit the office. Back then, she thought her homeroom teacher was incredibly romantic and dreamed that when she grew up and fell in love, she would ask her boyfriend to fold one for her too.

She never imagined that her childish wish would suddenly come true. Her newly appointed boyfriend had actually folded a heart for her.

Tao Hui’s ears burned as she muttered, “I was talking about choosing teammates.”

Han Buji lowered his voice, smoothly adapting, “I was talking about choosing a girlfriend.”

This guy! He flirts regardless of the situation!

What frustrated her most was that she actually enjoyed Han Buji’s sudden flirtatious teasing. Her heart pounded like she’d just run a marathon.

After tearing the remaining envelope into small squares and folding four tiny paper cranes, Tao Hui’s flushed cheeks finally cooled. She changed the subject, asking, “I think my luck’s been pretty good, right? All the clues I drew were hints that the other clues were fake. Since they don’t know their clues are fake, they’ll never guess the password. What if no one figures it out in the end?”

Han Buji glanced at Tao Hui’s down jacket pocket and chuckled softly. “The production team wouldn’t let that happen.”

Han Buji was right. When the Director realized that all the clues pointing to false information were in Tao Hui’s hands, he was completely flustered. What kind of luck was this? She had only found three clues, and all of them indicated false information.

What the Director didn’t know was that today would be the luckiest day of Tao Hui’s life.

As the time for sharing clues arrived, the Director’s voice boomed from the large screen: “Each group must select three clues to share with the other groups.”

Tao Hui: “?”

I only have three clues!

Other groups will strategically share their least useful information to gain an advantage. Do I have to selflessly sacrifice all my clues?

Is this show trying to teach me to be a good example like Lei Feng?!

Reluctantly, Tao Hui posted her three clues on the sharing board pushed forward by a staff member, angrily sharing her meager collection.

Having successfully helped the wealthy participants eliminate false information, Tao Hui was affectionately treated as the group’s darling by the other three teams.

By the final segment, when the teams were reorganizing their information, Tao Hui and Han Buji’s table was piled high with snacks offered by the other participants.

Tao Hui was the type to go with the flow. Since they had no chance of winning anyway, she happily indulged in yogurt and snacks, savoring each bite. Whenever she found something particularly delicious, she enthusiastically recommended it to Han Buji beside her.

For example, she tore open a small pack of finger biscuits, took a bite, and, with the remaining half-biscuit still in her mouth, held the entire pack out to Han Buji. “Mmm, Han Buji, try this,” she mumbled, her words slightly muffled. “It’s good, has a lemony flavor.”

Han Buji, equally bored, leaned back in his chair, watching Tao Hui curiously tear open each snack like a child. She even poked straws into every carton of AD Calcium Milk, taking a sip from each one, her cheeks puffing out like a hamster hoarding food—utterly adorable.

“Here,” Tao Hui held out the pack for a few seconds. When Han Buji didn’t move, she urged him, biscuit still dangling from her mouth, “Try it! It’s really good.”

With lightning speed, Han Buji reached out, snapped off the larger half of the biscuit from Tao Hui’s mouth, and popped it into his own.

The assistant director, who had noticed the odd tension between the two since filming began that day, silently facepalmed. No choice, he thought. The variety show was promoting Sheng Jue only because the Best Actor’s entertainment company and Li Sijin’s company had jointly invested in it.

For the sake of money, the assistant director swallowed his pride and turned to the Chief Director. “Should we cut this scene?”

The Chief Director, who knew Han Buji’s father and loved juicy gossip about young celebrities, not only refused to intervene but enthusiastically encouraged him. “Cut to Han Buji’s private mic. Let him go all out!”

Tao Hui, clearly startled by having her cookie snatched, stammered, “W-what are you doing?! There’s… there’s a whole pack right there!”

Han Buji, completely at ease, ignored her question. The Chief Director had already told him through his earpiece to flirt freely, promising to edit it out later. With no consequences to fear, he shrugged and beckoned Tao Hui closer.

Tao Hui glanced at him suspiciously before leaning in. He lowered his voice, enunciating each word clearly: “Who says it’s winter? When you’re near, I feel like a hundred flowers are blooming, birds are singing, and cicadas are buzzing.”

“You…” Tao Hui’s face flushed crimson. Aware of the crew watching, she retreated self-consciously against the chair back, staring at Han Buji’s unnervingly calm expression.

Han Buji, seemingly oblivious to his flirtatious behavior, wore an innocent expression. “It just popped into my head. It might be a line from some famous novel. Have you read it?”

“No!” Tao Hui stomped on Han Buji’s foot under the table, leaving a half-footprint on his black sneakers. Gritting her teeth, she pointed to her burning earlobe. “Han Buji! What are you up to?”

Han Buji tapped Tao Hui’s down jacket pocket with a smile. “My heart’s right here with you.”

This bastard is too smooth!

Tao Hui was about to stomp on Han Buji’s foot again when a progress alert flashed on the big screen: “Entering the final stage. Each group must send one representative to adjust the password. Each group has three attempts. Three incorrect attempts will result in challenge failure…”

Originally, Tao Hui’s group had found the fewest clues and should have been the last to attempt the password. However, due to her “outstanding contributions” in helping other groups eliminate twelve incorrect clues, the members of the other three groups strongly recommended that Tao Hui go first.

Fe Sili, speaking in her somewhat clumsy Chinese, said earnestly, “Tao Hui, you should go.”

“Yeah, go ahead, Tao Hui!” the others chimed in.

Just before going up, Tao Hui asked Han Buji with a serious expression, “Should I just press random letters?”

“Yeah, just press whatever looks good,” Han Buji replied with equal seriousness. “Pick whichever letters catch your eye.”

Well then, let’s just mash the keyboard!

Tao Hui walked to the stage, gazed at the four-letter password, and considered the 26 letters before her. After a moment’s thought, she pressed “SJDG,” thinking, If they ask why I chose these letters, I’ll say it stands for “Sheng Jue Empire (Sheng Jue Diguo)” and promote the new drama.

I’m such a marketing genius!

After mentally patting herself on the back countless times, Tao Hui lifted her finger from the last letter.

Boom!

The screen suddenly lit up with a cheerful, dancing smiley face wearing a ballet tutu. Accompanied by an extremely festive background tune—a rhythm no less catchy than the New Year’s anthem “Gong Xi Fa Cai”—a message flashed: Congratulations! The password is correct.

Then, amidst the crowd’s bewildered expressions, fireworks erupted in a frenzy: Boom! Boom-boom! Boom-boom! Boom!

The stage’s automated mechanisms, receiving the “correct password” signal, unleashed a torrent of confetti and balloons.

Tao Hui: “?”

Other team members: “?”

The backstage production crew: “?”

Even Han Buji froze for two seconds before covering his mouth with his fist and bursting into laughter.

“Congratulations to Team Han Buji and Tao Hui for successfully deciphering the password with their brilliant intellect! They have obtained the treasure from the chest: a pair of universal golden keys capable of granting any wish. The password SJDG also represents the ‘Sheng Jue Empire (Sheng Jue Diguo).’ Please stay tuned for the upcoming drama Sheng Jue, starring Han Buji, Xu Chang, and Tao Hui!” A staff member announced emotionlessly, reading from a script.

Despite being touted as “universal golden keys capable of granting any wish,” they were merely a pair of exquisitely crafted miniature golden keys.

Tao Hui and Han Buji raised the golden keys in acknowledgment, while the other teams, unwilling to accept defeat, stormed the stage to snatch them.

Lu Teng, utterly distraught, shouted, “I even set up a system of equations to crack the password! I want gold too!”

“I even made a Morse code!” Li Sijin joined in the commotion.

Streamers and gold glitter rained down on everyone’s heads as they surrounded Tao Hui and Han Buji, their voices rising in a joyful cacophony.

The camera lingered on this lively scene for its final shot, marking the end of the show’s recording.

Beijing, Huamei Entertainment’s dormitory.

“Tao Hui’s biggest endorsement is about to expire. I’ll get it, no matter what it takes. Why should someone like her be more successful than me?”

Han You sat at her vanity, practicing smiles in the mirror. The reflection showed a sweet smile, complete with adorable dimples, but her almond-shaped eyes flashed with resentment.

Scattered across the vanity were torn fragments of Tao Hui’s photos. Han You continued tearing them apart with deliberate slowness, her sugary-sweet voice dripping with mock tenderness as she murmured, “Sister Tao Hui, you’re going to give back everything that belongs to me!”