Did the Movie Emperor Blow His Cover Today? - Chapter 52

Chapter 52

The “No Way CP” fans were in high spirits these past few days, celebrating the New Year online with excited screams while eagerly searching for any hints of romance.

As their top fan, Gao Meng naturally noticed this and sent a message to her boss.

Han Buji glanced at the message on his phone, a slight smile curving his lips. He simply replied with “Okay,” showing no intention of interfering with his fans’ activities.

Gao Meng understood immediately: her boss was preparing to publicly reveal his relationship.

Tao Hui, however, remained completely unaware of all this. After Christmas, she spent every day agonizing over what to wear, what to bring as a gift, and what to say when meeting her boyfriend’s parents.

Growing up, Little Tao Hui had only ever interacted with one elder figure: Dean Sister. She had no experience interacting with older adults. After Dean Sister passed away a few years ago, the only adult she had regular contact with was—Zhou Xun!

That’s right! He’s middle-aged too! Asking Sister Xun is definitely the right move!

“Sister Xun! I’m going to meet Han Buji’s parents! What do middle-aged people like?” Tao Hui cheerfully called Zhou Xun for advice.

The middle-aged Zhou Xun replied coldly, “I don’t know!”

“You don’t know? Well, that’s true, you’re not married and don’t have kids,” Tao Hui said, her voice deflated. “What a shame. I thought you’d be the perfect person to ask.”Zhou Xun slammed down the phone in frustration after his 100th failed blind date.

Tao Hui listened to the dial tone, speechless.

A wave of anxiety washed over her. Without Zhou Xun’s support, she had no choice but to call her only remaining ally, Miao Miao, who spent her days watching family dramas. Tao Hui secretly prayed that Miss Miao’s immersion in these shows had somehow given her some experience with meeting elders.

The moment the call connected, Tao Hui excitedly blurted out, “Miao Miao, I’m going to meet Han Buji’s parents—”

“Ahhh! Meeting the parents! You’re meeting the parents! What’s the baby’s name? Which hospital are you giving birth at?” Miao Miao shrieked, her voice cracking with excitement.

“—what should I bring?” Tao Hui managed to finish her sentence amidst Miao Miao’s shrieks, immediately regretting her choice of confidante.

True to form, Miao Miao shrieked for five minutes straight before bombarding Tao Hui with irrelevant questions like, “Where are you going for your honeymoon?” “Have you hired a postpartum nanny yet?” and “How about Godiva chocolates for the wedding favors?”

Only as they were about to hang up did Miao Miao finally offer an answer: “Meeting the parents? Not getting engaged? Then just bring two pounds of crayfish.”

Tao Hui: “……” Two pounds of crayfish? Go to hell!

Han Buji’s home was filled with Tchaikovsky’s music, playing on an old-fashioned vinyl record player. A coffee table held peeled and diced pears and guavas.

Tao Hui tossed her phone onto the sofa, picked up a piece of pear, and stuffed it into her mouth, her cheeks bulging. “Han Buji, please help me!”

“I am helping,” Han Buji replied, sitting comfortably on the sofa in his loungewear, a script spread across his lap. “I’ve narrowed it down to two. Want to take a look?”

Director Chen had shared Tao Hui’s Christmas Eve clarification video, drawing the attention of several prominent directors. After all, Director Chen was a respected figure in the industry, known for rarely praising anyone. The last actor he had praised was Han Buji himself, years ago.

Directors favored actors who were both talented and dedicated, disliking those who relied on hype without improving their craft.

Since Director Chen had praised Tao Hui, other directors were eager to offer her opportunities to audition, sending her numerous scripts.

This brought Tao Hui some comfort after losing the Saint-Syrlandy endorsement. When Han Buji said he had selected two scripts, she leaned over and her eyes lit up when she recognized one of them—the script she had read yesterday.

“I meant about meeting your parents,” Tao Hui said, taking the two scripts and flipping through them casually.

One was a modern romance drama. The director was renowned for this genre, guaranteeing high viewership and a substantial paycheck for 50 episodes.

The other was a drug enforcement police film, a relatively niche genre. This director was even more exacting than Director Chen, pouring his heart and soul into each project, though he lacked mainstream fame.

Tao Hui hesitated, script in hand. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Han Buji offering her a piece of fruit on a toothpick, his gaze fixed on the script. Without looking up, she leaned in to take the pear.

Unexpectedly, Han Buji, who usually exuded gentlemanly charm, suddenly turned playful. As Tao Hui’s lips approached the pear, he swiftly withdrew the fruit and leaned in, his face replacing it.

She didn’t get the pear, but her lips brushed against his skin. Tao Hui froze, then looked up from the script. “Best Actor Han, where did you learn these tricks to flirt with young women?”

Han Buji’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “It’s just my natural reaction to seeing you.”

Already blessed with striking features, his smile made Tao Hui suddenly recall a location shoot at a planetarium. There, they had filmed in a 5D simulation of a dazzling starry river. Now, in Han Buji’s perpetually languid eyes, it seemed as if a shimmering galaxy had taken root.

“Which one do you choose?” Han Buji asked.

Still lost in the depths of Han Buji’s phoenix eyes, Tao Hui misheard his question, thinking he was asking her to choose between a pear and kissing him. She murmured softly, “I choose kissing you.”

Han Buji chuckled, reaching out to ruffle her hair. “The script, which one do you choose?”

“Oh…” Tao Hui’s face flushed. She picked up the script and fanned herself. “I really want to do the Drug Enforcement one, but I want to play the lead.”

Han Buji nodded without objection.

The director of the Drug Enforcement film had offered Tao Hui the role of the second female lead, a Drug Enforcement police officer. Perhaps because she had played a female police officer before, the director felt this was a safer choice.

Moreover, the salary difference between the roles was significant. Tao Hui hesitated, asking, “Do you think the company will let me take it?”

Han Buji smiled. “I’ll handle it.”

Remembering how terrified Liu Jia had been by Han Buji that day, Tao Hui felt reassured. She said cheerfully, “Then I’ll call the director right away!”

Nervously, Tao Hui dialed the director’s number and began politely, “Hello, is this Director Lu? I’m Tao Hui. You sent me the script for Drug Enforcement Storm.”

The man on the other end of the line sounded slightly surprised. “Hello, Miss Tao. Are you calling to audition?”

Tao Hui glanced at Han Buji, as if seeking courage. Feeling his hand squeeze hers, she finally spoke. “I’m very interested in your script, but I’d like to audition for the lead female role.”

Her words were audacious, especially considering she was a young actress who had never worked with Director Lu before. Demanding the lead role right off the bat could easily create a negative impression.

As expected, the man on the other end paused for a moment before chuckling. “Miss Tao, the pay for the lead and supporting female roles in our production is roughly the same. You don’t need to…”

Tao Hui touched the birthmark on her neck and said earnestly, “Director Lu, it’s not about the role being the lead. I’ve experienced something similar myself. I feel a deeper connection with the drug dealer’s daughter than with the police officer. Because I myself am the daughter of a drug addict. Of course, if you already have someone in mind, I won’t insist on auditioning.”

Tao Hui’s candor stunned Director Lu. “What did you say?”

The female lead in Drug Enforcement Storm is Gu Jia, the daughter of a drug trafficker. Having grown up with only her mother, Gu Jia longed to meet her father, only to discover he was a drug trafficker.

Confused and disoriented by the police interrogation, Gu Jia chose to lie, inadvertently causing the entire family of a Drug Enforcement officer to be brutally murdered.

Gu Jia’s desperate decision failed to bring her the family harmony she craved. Witnessing her mother’s battered body, seeing the people her father sold drugs to, and observing the agonizing withdrawal of addicts, she risked her life to deliver a message to a Drug Enforcement officer. In the end, she was shot dead by her father while protecting a female Drug Enforcement officer.

Tao Hui understood the pain and conflict of longing for an idealized family only to confront the stark reality of her own. She shared her story with Director Lu, recounting her own hesitations and confusion.

“I’ve seen firsthand what drug addicts are like,” Tao Hui said. “I know how terrifying they can be. Director Lu, please consider me for the female lead.”

If she could, she truly wanted to make this film. In real life, she felt powerless, but at least in the movie, she could give herself a complete ending.

Director Lu was about the same age as Zhou Xun, with a mild-mannered personality but unwavering principles. Tao Hui spent hours discussing the script with him, and the more they talked, the more Director Lu became convinced that Tao Hui was the perfect lead actress for his film. He even told her he wanted to revise the script based on her experiences, to give Gu Jia’s character more depth and dimension.

“A film might be just entertainment for some, but I hope it can also make people realize how terrifying drug trafficking and addiction truly are,” Director Lu said over the phone. “Only then will I feel my film has served a purpose.”

Just before hanging up, Director Lu suddenly added, “Tao Hui, working with my production crew will be tough, and the pay won’t be great. You need to think this through carefully. I’d love for you to join us, but I’ll understand if you decide not to.”

Tao Hui thought of the massive paycheck she had turned down, and her heart ached. “Director Lu, if you keep talking like that, I’ll start feeling sorry for my wallet and regret my decision!”

Director Lu: “…”

It was over an hour later when they finally hung up. Tao Hui had never discussed a script so passionately with any director before. More than the huge salary, she wanted to make a film that, like Director Lu said, could convey something more important than just the story itself.

Her eyes lit up as she turned to Han Buji beside her. “Director Lu is truly a remarkable director, isn’t he?”

Han Buji cast a brief, indifferent glance at Tao Hui and remained silent.

“Oh, right, honey, you still need to help me. We didn’t finish talking about it earlier.” Having finished discussing work, Tao Hui set the script aside and returned to her pre-New Year’s anxiety. She began counting on her fingers. “What exactly do Uncle and Auntie like? I’m still a bit nervous.”

As she spoke, she sensed Han Buji growing even more silent beside her.

Tao Hui gave him a curious look. “What’s wrong?”

Han Buji sighed helplessly. “You hang up with another man and immediately start worrying about everyone else. I’ve been sitting here with this fruit plate for ages, and you haven’t even asked about me.”

His words carried a hint of wounded resentment, as if she were the one being a jerk.

The record player in the room happened to be playing “June Barcarolle,” its melancholic melody adding to Han Buji’s air of a neglected wife.

My boyfriend’s upset. Time to cheer him up!

Tao Hui sprang to her feet, stood before Han Buji, clenched her fists, and shouted, “Han Buji!”

The Best Actor, startled by the shout, looked up to see his girlfriend, her fists pressed against her cheeks, striking a cute pose as she wiggled her hips and wrists, cheerfully chanting, “12345, I miss you so much! 4567, Huihui cries for you!”

So adorable.

The Best Actor’s lingering annoyance vanished instantly. He chuckled and pulled his adorable girlfriend closer, asking, “Tao Hui, have you really never been in love before? You’re even more flirtatious than I am!”

Tao Hui leaned into Han Buji’s embrace, grinning as she held up her hand, making a “5” gesture. “Well, I’ve only been smitten about five times. That’s one more than you, isn’t it? Impressive, right?”

Han Buji chuckled, assuming she was just teasing him. He didn’t press the matter, instead tickling her as punishment.

The ticklish Tao Hui dissolved into laughter as Han Buji tickled her relentlessly. Amid their playful tussle, her phone vibrated on the sofa.

Snow swirled outside the window. Tao Hui, breathless from laughter, brushed a stray strand of hair from her forehead and reached for her phone, still sprawled on the sofa. She glanced back at Han Buji, warning, “No sneak attacks!”

With a grin, she pressed her thumb to the phone’s screen. The moment it unlocked, her smile froze. The screen displayed a private message from an unknown Weibo user.

The profile picture was blank, the username a string of gibberish, and the message contained only a few words, yet its meaning was crystal clear:

[ I’m your father. ]

Tao Hui was still caught up in the laughter that had left her breathless. Pointing at the message on her phone as if she’d just seen the joke of the century, she howled, “Hahaha! Some idiot claims to be my dad? Ahahaha! I might as well be his great-grandmother! Hahaha…”

Beside her, Han Buji glanced at the message on the screen, his brow furrowing slightly.

Tao Hui, clutching her stomach from laughing so hard, noticed Han Buji’s serious expression and gradually calmed down. She reread the private message.

‘I’m your father?’ Which father?

Could it… could it be her biological father?!

Tao Hui froze for a moment before suddenly shouting, “QAQ Han Buji! This is bad! That villain has appeared!!!”