Did the Movie Emperor Blow His Cover Today? - Chapter 46

Chapter 46

At 10 a.m., the sunlight was just right. Down below, a dozen middle-aged women were dancing square dance to the tune of “Let Go When Love Is Gone.” Their outfits were a sight to behold: down jackets paired with short tulle skirts, the skirts fluttering in the cold wind to reveal colorful thermal leggings underneath.

Red, orange, yellow, green, cyan, blue, purple—even more vibrant than the Seven Fairies.

Tao Hui leaned over the balcony railing, holding a plate of sliced navel oranges, watching the spectacle with amused fascination.

She had chosen this neighborhood for its vibrant community spirit. Rumor had it that many of the residents were elderly people who had relocated from old four-sided courtyards in Beijing. Here, she could still hear the old Beijing dialect that younger generations rarely spoke anymore.

This year seemed to be a mild winter. Leaving the window open didn’t feel cold at all; instead, the fresh air lifted her spirits.

Tao Hui savored a juicy slice of orange, the sweet-tart juice flooding her mouth. She closed her eyes with a contented “mmm” before turning to ask, “I just heard the women downstairs talking about ‘having some pian’r tang at my place.’ What’s pian’r tang?”

Han Buji sat at the coffee table, wiping orange juice from the fruit knife with a tissue. He glanced up at the girl leaning over the balcony railing, her rear end sticking out, and chuckled. “It’s made with noodle dough. If you want to try it, I could buy some wonton wrappers and give it a shot.”

“Wonton wrappers? Never mind then. I prefer the thick, chewy texture of knife-cut noodles,” Tao Hui said, tilting her head thoughtfully. Her enthusiasm waned slightly. Seeing Han Buji put away the knife, she asked, “Aren’t you going to have any? This orange has a perfect sweet-and-sour flavor.”

As she spoke, Tao Hui noticed Han Buji beckoning her over. She promptly picked up the orange and sat beside him, sharing it bite by bite.

Both of them were temporarily between projects after filming the variety show. Tao Hui’s lack of resources stemmed from her relative obscurity, while Han Buji’s stemmed from his overwhelming popularity.

Being too famous meant he didn’t need to take on mediocre roles for a living. Moreover, as the boss of Unruly Entertainment, he prioritized nurturing new talent, reserving any decent opportunities for artists under his agency and rarely appearing himself. This allowed him to stay home with Tao Hui.

When Miao Miao called, Tao Hui was sprawled lazily across Han Buji’s lap, directing him to play music on her phone. She crossed her legs and swung her bare feet contentedly. “Just open that red app, go to my favorites, and pick something mellow.”

Basking in the sunlight and listening to music, she effortlessly brushed aside all her worries.

Han Buji, distracted, accidentally swiped his phone, connecting the call to Miao Miao. Just as he was about to speak to Tao Hui, the little girl lying on his lap pointed to her slightly parted lips and drawled, “Han Buji, I want more.”

The orange sat on the coffee table, closer to Tao Hui, but she insisted on being fed by her boyfriend.

When Tao Hui used to read scripts, she scoffed at the melodramatic heroines, especially when they feigned helplessness, whining, “I can’t open it!” or “I’m too weak!” while batting their eyelashes at the male lead. She’d even gag at the thought.

Now that she was in love herself, she could only say, “It’s so good!”

An orange fed by her boyfriend tasted completely different from one she peeled herself!

Tao Hui, possessed by her inner drama queen, added in a coquettish tone, mimicking the heroines in the scripts, “Hurry up, I want it now!”

Isn’t it said that men can’t resist a woman they love when she’s being cute? And that a woman who knows how to flirt gets the best things in life? From today on, I’m going to be one of those lucky girls!

Tao Hui was quite pleased with her earlier display of playful coquettishness. But her smugness faded when she realized Han Buji hadn’t moved an inch. A thud echoed from above, like something had fallen. Instinctively, she shielded her head, about to ask what had happened when Miao Miao’s sudden, piercing scream cut through the air.

“Aaaah! Mom! This is too much! I can’t take it anymore! Sister Xun, call 119! My heart! My heart! Thank goodness I didn’t video call! Aaaah!” Miao Miao shrieked like a rubber chicken whose heart had been ripped out by a deranged killer. Her voice was so loud it made Tao Hui’s head ring.

“What’s going on?” Tao Hui sat up in alarm, casting a questioning glance at Han Buji. Before she could ask, Zhou Xun’s voice came through the phone.

“119 is for fire emergencies,” Zhou Xun said. “Tao Hui? Are you with Best Actor Han?”

Normally, Zhou Xun spoke in a gentle, nagging tone, like an overprotective mother. But his sudden, serious demeanor made Tao Hui feel like her “mom” was about to explode if she didn’t explain herself immediately.

Tao Hui stiffened. She couldn’t see why Han Buji feeding her an orange was such a big deal. She glanced at Han Buji, who was holding her phone, and finally found her courage. “Sister Xun, it’s me. I’m with Han Buji.”

“Where?” Zhou Xun’s voice remained sharp. Han Buji raised an eyebrow slightly.

“At… at Han Buji’s house…” Tao Hui’s voice trailed off, growing softer with each word. Feeling insecure, she clutched Han Buji’s thumb for reassurance.

Only then did Tao Hui realize why her mother, who also served as her manager, was so furious. She, a female celebrity, was dating the Best Actor!

This is practically suicide! she thought. It’s like handing Han Meimei and her ilk a knife!

“Is Best Actor Han there?” Zhou Xun asked. “Is it convenient for me to come over? There are some things we need to discuss.”

Han Buji gently patted the dazed girl beside him. “It’s convenient,” he replied. “Thank you for making the trip, Manager Zhou.”

Zhou Xun had been in a foul mood the entire way. He had managed Tao Hui since her debut, and he had even shed tears of pride when she stood on the awards stage that year, feeling like a father watching his daughter come of age.

Later, during Tao Hui’s dark period, Zhou Xun had stayed by her side, weathering the storm together. Over those six months, Tao Hui lost 12 pounds, while Zhou Xun shed 19.

Of course, some of those 19 pounds were due to his frequent bouts of diarrhea from drinking too much ice-cold draft beer.

Tao Hui, the seemingly docile young woman, was both optimistic and resilient. Unlike many young girls who rushed into the industry seeking shortcuts to success, Tao Hui had always moved at her own pace, taking steady, deliberate steps.

Zhou Xun had managed many artists in the past, but Tao Hui was the only one he had cared for like a daughter, worrying about her every step of the way.

Before he could even start picking out a suitable husband for his “daughter,” she had already been snatched away by a wolf’s den. Who wouldn’t be furious?!

Stepping out of the elevator, Zhou Xun took a deep breath and strode toward Han Buji’s door with the upright posture of a mother-in-law sizing up her daughter’s suitor.

Han Buji’s apartment was directly across from Tao Hui’s. While Tao Hui’s door was adorned with a large image of the God of Wealth, Han Buji’s door was completely bare.

Zhou Xun raised his hand and knocked twice. Han Buji’s voice called from inside, “Come in, the door’s unlocked.”

As Zhou Xun entered, he was first struck by the lavish, designer furniture that filled Han Buji’s apartment. Then, he was hit with a heavy dose of “dog food” by the sight of Han Buji and Tao Hui on the sofa.

Actually, only Han Buji was sitting on the sofa. Tao Hui was fast asleep, her head resting on the Best Actor’s lap.

Both were dressed in matching neutral-toned loungewear. A half-eaten plate of oranges sat on the table. A drop of juice clung to the corner of Tao Hui’s mouth, and Han Buji was leaning down, carefully wiping it away with his thumb. Perhaps afraid of waking her, he didn’t reach for the tissue box that was slightly out of reach. Instead, he casually grabbed the Hermès throw draped over the sofa and wiped his hand.

Zhou Xun, nearly forty and still unmarried, Zhou Xun, nearly forty and still burdened with a mortgage, cursed under his breath.

The joy of the wealthy is so damn boring! he thought bitterly. But damn, it must be nice!

Zhou Xun pointed at Tao Hui, but before he could speak, Han Buji gently pressed his palm against Tao Hui’s ear, shielding her from the noise, and said softly, “It was rude of me not to open the door for you. She just fell asleep, and I didn’t want to risk startling her awake. Please, have a seat. Would you like some tea?”

Your face clearly says, “You’d better not drink any damn tea! One wrong move and my precious will wake up!” Zhou Xun thought.

Zhou Xun sat across from Han Buji, glanced at Tao Hui curled up in a small ball, and, after a moment of contemplation, cut to the chase. “Han Buji, are you serious about this? I don’t know what Tao Hui means to you, but to Miao Miao and me, she’s family. I won’t let my family get hurt.”

Before coming, Zhou Xun had already heard about Tao Hui and Han Buji from Miao Miao. She had clutched her chest dramatically, as if about to breathe her last, and declared that Tao Hui and Han Buji’s relationship was a divine, otherworldly romance.

The entertainment industry is rife with temptations and filled with attractive people, making it easy to become distracted. Naturally, it’s a bit more chaotic than other fields. Though Han Buji didn’t seem like a bad person, Zhou Xun couldn’t help but worry.

What if he just wants to play around? What if he gets bored in a few days? What if it’s just a passing impulse? What if!

Han Buji lowered his gaze to the person on his lap, then looked at Zhou Xun’s worried, wrinkled face. He chuckled and shook his head, saying, “No wonder Tao Hui said you’re like a mother to her.”

After the laughter faded, Han Buji’s expression turned serious, his eyes filled with unwavering resolve. He answered his future mother-in-law’s question with utmost sincerity: “In the past, I thought of her as the only person I liked. Now, I consider her the only person I love. In the future, she will be my wife, my partner, the one who will grow old with me. Of course, all of this depends on Tao Hui’s willingness.”

Zhou Xun had witnessed Han Buji’s negotiation skills firsthand years ago. When their company had a contract dispute with Unruly Entertainment over a new artist, Zhou Xun joined the negotiation team and observed the young man in his early twenties wielding his forceful and sharp negotiating prowess.

But the Han Buji before him now wore a gentle expression, his demeanor humble as he spoke these words.

Han Buji really didn’t need to explain himself to a mere manager like Zhou Xun. The fact that he was being so polite and detailed likely meant he’d noticed how much Zhou Xun cared for Tao Hui.

Men understand men. From the sincerity in Han Buji’s eyes, Zhou Xun could tell he was serious.

Zhou Xun remained silent, the two men sitting in the living room, quietly staring at each other.

After a moment, Zhou Xun changed the subject. “Have you heard about Tao Hui’s endorsement deal with Saint-Syrlandy?”

Tao Hui, who had been sound asleep, suddenly opened her eyes. Under the slightly surprised gazes of the two men, she sat up, hands on her hips, and declared, “Sister Xun, this is company business. Don’t ask Han Buji for help! I got a boyfriend, not a business assistant! The internet says love and work should stay separate, or things will go wrong!”

Zhou Xun stared in disbelief. “…Weren’t you asleep?”

“Just woke up! What a coincidence!” Tao Hui tilted her chin, not a trace of sleepiness on her face. She had clearly been pretending to sleep.

Han Buji covered his mouth with his fist, chuckling softly. Zhou Xun, furious, pointed a trembling finger at Tao Hui. “You’re already siding with him!”

“Nonsense, Sister Xun, have an orange,” Tao Hui said with a bright smile, hopping off the sofa and handing Zhou Xun an orange.

She had deliberately eavesdropped, knowing that the only two people she could truly confide in were nearby. Miao Miao, ever carefree, would simply laugh along if she was happy, while Sister Xun, as her manager, was always more cautious, worried about her being taken advantage of.

Now that she knew both of them supported her, Tao Hui felt completely at ease.

The three sat in the living room, chatting and eating oranges. Zhou Xun took a bite and exclaimed, “Damn, these oranges are delicious! That turtle bastard Liu Jia is threatening me with your expiring contract. If I can’t secure this endorsement, I’ll spell my name backward! Don’t worry, Hui’er, just focus on your work and leave the rest to me.”

Liu Jia was the greedy, miserly boss of Tao Hui’s agency. This modern-day Zhou Bapi (the notorious fictional landlord) was cursed behind his back by Zhou Xun 365 times a day.

“And that Han You is even more ridiculous,” Zhou Xun continued. “I don’t know how she got mixed up with that pig-faced, grease-slicked reincarnation of Li Biao. Li Biao splurged a fortune the other day, hosting the regional manager of Saint-Syrlandy’s China division at Beijing’s most expensive restaurant. Fucking obvious they’re trying to steal your endorsement.”

Han Buji pondered for a moment before saying, “I know the international head of Saint-Syrlandy. I can put in a good word.”

“No, no, no!” Tao Hui shook her head vigorously, her hands on her hips, declaring with fierce determination, “If I achieve anything, I want it to be through my own hard work, not because I slept with the Best Actor.”

Zhou Xun, hearing that particular phrase, shot a death glare at Han Buji.

Han Buji tapped Tao Hui’s forehead with his finger, smiling helplessly. “Don’t say such things in front of Mom.”

He then whispered to Tao Hui, “When exactly did you sleep with the Best Actor?”

Tao Hui’s face flushed crimson, but she stubbornly insisted, “W-well, I’m going to eventually, anyway!”

“Oh? Then I’m looking forward to it,” Han Buji said with a grin.

Zhou Xun, the one being called “Mom,” declared he couldn’t stay any longer. This nauseating display of affection was making even his oranges taste sour!

As he left, Zhou Xun finally got to enjoy the treatment of a real parent, being personally escorted to his car by his future son-in-law. Han Buji even gifted him an expensive new tie.

Sitting in the car, Zhou Xun stroked the silky tie, his expression serious as he called Miao Miao. “Miao Miao, you were right. It truly is a divine love story. I approve of your sister’s marriage!”

After seeing Zhou Xun off, Tao Hui realized it was too much for Sister Xun to handle all her resources alone. After a moment’s thought, she flipped through her photo album and posted an old selfie on Weibo.

[ Ding-dong! Time for me to get to work! ]

The photo showed her with cute rabbit ears added by a phone app.

Fans flooded the comments, and Tao Hui scrolled through them one by one, each one filled with praise or warm greetings. The comments felt especially heartwarming:

[ ~Wow! Rabbit’s back! You’re so beautiful, Rabbit! I’ll love you forever! ]

[ ~Rabbit is the cutest thing in the universe today! Her cuteness defies all logic! ]

[ ~Rabbit, you haven’t posted anything lately. Has filming for Sheng Jue wrapped up? When will it be released? I even read the original novel for you—that 7 million-word epic almost made me go blind! ]

[ ~Rabbit, your look in Sheng Jue is so badass! I’m obsessed! ]

[ ~You’re so gorgeous, Miss! I’m saving this as my wallpaper! ]

Just as Tao Hui was enjoying the comments, a notification popped up in her Weibo private messages: a small blue circle with the number 1. She opened it and froze.

The message came from a Weibo user named “Die-hard Fan of the Best Actor.” It contained a photo—the same one she had just posted with rabbit ears—edited into black and white, adorned with numerous red candles, and stamped with a crimson character meaning “memorial.”

Tao Hui’s pupils constricted as a torrent of new messages flooded the chat:

[ Tao Hui must die. ]

[ You don’t deserve to live. Even breathing is a waste of air. ]

[ Stay away from the Best Actor! ]

[ If you dare join another production crew with the Best Actor, you’ll be hit by a car and die. ]

This wasn’t the first time Tao Hui had seen her photos edited into morbid images; she had encountered far more gruesome and vile versions before. Nor was this her first anti-fan. She reported the account and silently closed her phone.

In the nearby kitchen, Han Buji was making her orange juice. Bright orange segments tumbled into the juicer, whirring into action.

Tao Hui took a deep breath. The cedar and sandalwood incense in the room calmed her agitation. Forcing a smile, she called out cheerfully to Han Buji, “Hey! Handsome, give me a B-Box!”

That night, Tao Hui had a nightmare. A crowd paraded through the streets, carrying black-and-white photos of her. Their faces were expressionless. Suddenly, the two people at the front turned their heads, their heads simultaneously falling off and rolling bloodily to her feet. The severed heads opened mouths full of fangs and bit into her legs.

“No!” Tao Hui cried out, jolting awake and struggling to open her eyes. She switched on the bedside lamp. The dazzling, gem-studded necklace hung draped over the lamp, its facets refracting the warm, orange light into shimmering, multicolored patterns that danced across the wall.

Han Buji pushed open the door. “Tao Hui? Bad dream?”

“No,” she murmured, her head bowed. “Just dreamt Miao Miao was stealing my snacks.”

Han Buji stared at Tao Hui’s disheveled hair for a moment. The girl probably didn’t realize it, but whenever she lied, she always fidgeted to ease her nervousness.

Like now, she was clutching a small corner of the blanket so tightly her knuckles were white.

Just like earlier that afternoon, when she’d seen something on her phone that clearly upset her, yet insisted she was in a great mood. Her fingers had gripped the orange juice glass so hard, the tips had turned pale.

Han Buji slowly approached Tao Hui, gently lifting her chin with his thumb. He looked into her eyes. “Tao Hui, are you unhappy?”

Tao Hui clutched the blanket, licked her dry lips, and slowly replied, “…No.”

The delicate light from the gems on Han Buji’s long necklace flickered across his face. Half of his face was buried in the shadows of the night, while the other half was illuminated by the table lamp and the scattered light from the gems, making him look like a genie emerging from Aladdin’s lamp, ready to grant wishes.

Except this genie is frowning and doesn’t seem to be in a good mood, Tao Hui thought.

“Is that so? But I can tell you’re not happy. I’d be worried leaving you to sleep alone,” the genie said.

Under Tao Hui’s gaze, Han Buji extended his index and middle fingers. “Two choices for you. Either tell me the truth, or I’ll stay and sleep with you.”