Did the Movie Emperor Blow His Cover Today? - Chapter 6

Chapter 6 

Tao Hui was on the phone with her Little Fanboy in a quiet corner of the set when Han You suddenly lunged at her. Hearing Han You’s shout, Tao Hui turned her head, but she couldn’t react in time and was scalded by the hot water from Han You’s thermos.

For a moment, chaos erupted in the peaceful corner of the set. Han You tumbled to the ground, her thermos clattering to the floor. Tao Hui grimaced in pain, but remembered to quickly end her call with Little Fanboy.

Tao Hui had worn a turtleneck sweater to the set that day. While studying her script earlier, she had rolled up her sleeves to cool down, exposing her pale arms. Now, most of the hot water from Han You’s thermos had splashed onto her forearm.

“Ah! Sister Tao Hui!”

“Sister Huihui!”

Tao Hui’s cry of pain was cut short by the ear-splitting screams of Han You and Miao Miao beside her, each louder than the last.

She glared at them, her eyes wide. What the hell? I’m the one who’s hurt here! Why are you two screaming?

Han You, still in her period costume, had fallen awkwardly. But seeing the red patch on Tao Hui’s arm, she scrambled to her feet, her face pale and trembling. “Sister Tao Hui, are you okay? I’m so sorry! Are you hurt?”

Miao Miao was equally horrified by the swelling redness on Tao Hui’s arm. She panicked, wringing her hands. “What should we do? Does it hurt a lot?”

Tao Hui was in so much pain she couldn’t speak. The skin on her forearm felt foreign, as if Mammy Rong had been torturing her with steel needles.

It was break time, and everyone was in their designated rest areas. Tao Hui was surrounded only by Han You and Miao Miao, who were frantically asking questions.

Having never experienced a burn before, Tao Hui was stunned by the pain. For a moment, she could only bite her lip and furrow her brow in an attempt to alleviate it.

“Medical staff! Get a doctor here immediately!” Han Buji’s calm, authoritative voice suddenly came from behind the three women. No one had noticed when the Best Actor had arrived. He calmly instructed his assistant, “Gao Meng, bring ice and cold water! Hurry!”

Tao Hui glanced at Han Buji, noticing his changed demeanor. He seemed to be angry at someone, his aura intimidating.

Han Buji’s words threw the set into chaos. Han You, as if jolted awake, shouted at the top of her lungs, “Someone come quick! Doctor! Sister Huihui’s been burned! Medic—!” Her voice cracked on the last word.

“What happened? Who called for a doctor?”

“Hurry! Someone’s burned! Get a doctor here now!”

“Where’s the ice? Bring all the ice!”

“Give me two bottles of mineral water! Quick!”

Tao Hui glanced at the two glistening blisters on her arm. Damn, that hurts like hell.

Someone handed her two bottles of mineral water. Han Buji twisted open one, crouched down in front of Tao Hui, and firmly grasped her wrist with his large hand as he poured the icy water over her burn.

“Ah, it stings! It stings!” Tao Hui couldn’t help but flinch, her hand jerking back involuntarily, her eyes reddening with unshed tears.

Han Buji didn’t stop pouring. He held her wrist steady, glanced up at her, and said softly, “Bear with it. It’ll get worse if we don’t cool it down.”

Perhaps it was the shrill screams of Han You and Miao Miao that made Han Buji’s words sound so unexpectedly gentle, almost like he was soothing a child.

This… the Best Actor always maintains his gentlemanly persona. Is it just second nature by now?

She couldn’t break free from his grip, but his hold wasn’t tight. As he continued to pour water over her burn, he unconsciously rubbed his thumb over the pulse point on her wrist.

Even though this might just be part of Han Buji’s carefully cultivated image of warmth and concern, Tao Hui’s throat tightened, and she nearly burst into tears.

Tao Hui had always been like this. Normally, she was carefree and fearless, and even when she fell or bumped into something, her first instinct wasn’t to cry, but to grit her teeth and bear it.

But when she was truly hurt or upset, being comforted was the worst thing possible. The moment someone spoke to her gently, she was sure to burst into tears.

She once thought her tear ducts might be malformed, somehow connected to her cochlea.

Now, Tao Hui tried her best to hold back, but she couldn’t. A single tear plopped onto the back of Han Buji’s hand with a splat.

The Best Actor had probably never encountered such a melodramatic person before. Her tear made his hand twitch, and his brow furrowed even deeper.

Tao Hui quickly wiped her face. “It’s nothing, I’m fine! It’s not the pain, it’s just… a reflex…”

“It’s okay, it’s okay. It doesn’t hurt much anymore, and I don’t scar easily. It’ll be fine in a few days.”

As Han Buji twisted open a second bottle of water, Tao Hui raised her hand, as if wanting to wave her injured paw to reassure Miao Miao and Han You.

The Best Actor was in a foul mood. He’d never met such a clueless girl. Her own tears hadn’t even dried, yet she was trying to comfort others.

Han Buji grabbed Tao Hui’s wrist again and said in a low voice, “Tao Hui, shut up.”

Tao Hui startled, shrinking her neck. So much for gentleness being real, she thought. If I move again, Han Buji might start cursing in Chuan Yu dialect.

That would ruin his Best Actor image! All his hard work maintaining that facade would be for nothing.

Tao Hui considered herself a sensible girl. After all, Han Buji had generously provided two ice-cold bottles of mineral water! She couldn’t let him ruin his reputation.

So Tao Hui shut up.

The medical staff arrived quickly and efficiently took over from Han Buji. They rinsed Tao Hui’s arm with ice water, disinfected it with alcohol, punctured the blister’s edge with a needle, applied burn ointment, and bandaged it. They might have done other things, but Tao Hui didn’t notice.

For some reason, she felt Han Buji’s mood was even worse than hers. It made her feel a little cold despite her exposed arm, which actually distracted her from the pain.

Director Chen rushed over. “What happened? How did you get burned?”

“It was me,” Han You sobbed, her eyes red and swollen. “I’m so sorry, Director Chen. It’s all my fault. I spilled hot water and burned Sister Tao Hui like this. Waaah, I’m so sorry for causing trouble for everyone.”

“You clumsy child,” the Assistant Director scolded, tugging at Han You. “Stop crying now. If your eyes swell up, how will you film your scenes later?” Han You hiccuped and repeated her apologies.

The medical staff carefully instructed Tao Hui, “Fortunately, you rinsed it with cold water promptly. The burn didn’t reach the deeper layers of your skin. Apply the burn cream regularly, keep it dry to prevent infection, and it should heal in about a week.”

“Will it scar?” Miao Miao asked anxiously.

“Two small blisters have formed, which might leave faint dark marks,” the staff replied, handing Miao Miao the burn cream. “Miss Tao, do you have a tendency to scar easily?”

Tao Hui shook her head. “No, my scars usually fade quickly. Thank you.”

Director Chen looked grim, pacing back and forth with his hands on his hips. “Tao Hui, go back and rest. We’ll postpone your scenes for today.”

Historical dramas require particularly elaborate sets. Once a scene is set up, all related scenes are typically filmed to avoid wasting manpower and resources, and to maintain the production schedule.

Tao Hui instinctively refused. “Director Chen, I’m fine. Don’t delay everyone’s progress because of me. I can still film. It’s my left arm that’s injured, and I wield the sword with my right.” She waved her uninjured right arm to emphasize her point.

Several layers of people surrounded Tao Hui, while Han Buji stood outside the crowd, his brow deeply furrowed.

Persuaded by Tao Hui’s insistence, Director Chen reluctantly agreed to resume filming.

Fortunately, the scene was simple, with only one line of dialogue for Tao Hui. The challenge lay in the wire work.

Tao Hui played Qing Wan, a female assassin who spent 80% of her screen time attempting to assassinate Third Prince Dongchuan of the Dongxiao Kingdom, portrayed by Han Buji. This role perfectly suited Tao Hui’s preferences.

Today’s scene marked Qing Wan’s first appearance, where she stabs Dongchuan in the back with a sword.

The strike needed to be both imposing and aesthetically pleasing, a delicate balance to strike.

In the dressing room, Tao Hui wore a flowing white robe. The wide sleeves of her ancient costume concealed the bandage on her arm, though moving her left arm still caused a sharp pain.

Miao Miao said with concern, “Sister Huihui, let’s nail this in one take. Once we’re done, we can go back and rest. I just ordered you some fried chicken!”

“You know me too well,” Tao Hui replied, tilting her head back. “Fried chicken will make me a vigorous warrior again! Just remember to apply the concealer thickly.”

“Don’t worry,” Miao Miao assured her, squeezing out the concealer and applying it to Tao Hui’s neck. After finishing, she gave a thumbs-up. “This concealer was brought back by Sister Xun from overseas. It’s even better than the one we were using before!”

When Tao Hui emerged from the dressing room, fully costumed and made up, the crew members froze in awe.

They had been filming battle scenes all day, and the Imperial Capital’s autumn air was dry, with a faint layer of dust hanging in the air. The extras were covered in dirt from their falls, and even the leads were splattered with fake blood.

Only Tao Hui stood out, like an ethereal fairy in her snow-white robes.

The redness in her eyes had vanished, replaced by a cool detachment that perfectly captured the essence of Qing Wan, the female assassin. Even her voice had turned icy as she calmly asked the director and screenwriter, “How was it?”

Director Chen, rarely one for praise, offered a rare smile and a thumbs-up. “Excellent.”

The screenwriter clapped excitedly, “That’s Qing Wan! That’s Qing Wan!”

Still just a 21-year-old girl, Tao Hui blushed slightly at the praise from her elders, lowering her eyes with a shy smile.

Xu Chang, dressed in ancient costume and covered in fake blood, exuded a fierce masculinity. His tanned skin only enhanced his rugged image. Unfortunately, his cool demeanor lasted only three seconds before his goofy grin, revealing both upper and lower teeth, betrayed his true 二哈 personality.

Right now, Xu Chang was grinning foolishly, flashing his pearly whites. “Brother Han, hurry! Give me a drink! I’m dying of dehydration!”

Han Buji handed him the water bottle he’d just opened. Xu Chang took a long swig, then began acting out a one-man play. In a high-pitched, falsetto voice, he whined, “Brother Han, I want a drink.”

He deepened his voice to reply to himself, “Drink! Take a big gulp! Two gulps enough?”

Back to the falsetto, “Enough, thank you, Brother Han! You’re the best!”

Han Buji glanced at him with a speechless expression. Sensing movement behind him, he turned to see Tao Hui emerging from the green room in a white robe. Whatever Director Chen and the screenwriter had said to her, Tao Hui lowered her eyes and smiled shyly.

In that instant, Han Buji suddenly recalled Xu Zhimo’s poem “Sayonara”, “Most tender is that lowered head, like a water lily’s delicate shyness in the cool breeze.”

Xu Chang also heard the commotion and followed Han Buji’s gaze. He froze, his water bottle suspended halfway to his lips. After a moment, he nudged Han Buji with his elbow. “Brother Han, what’s the name of that new actress? Tao something?”

Han Buji’s eyes remained fixed on Tao Hui, ignoring Xu Chang.

“Ah, I remember now! Tao Hui! Right? Her name’s Tao Hui?” Xu Chang tossed his water bottle onto the nearby table and casually wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Holy shit, I think I’ve found love!”

Han Buji slowly turned his head and glanced at him.

Xu Chang clutched his chest dramatically, still babbling nonsense. “My heart! It’s racing! Brother Han, Cupid’s arrow has struck me!”

Author’s Note: Han Buji draws his 40-meter-long blade, “Love your mom, I’m gonna slaughter you.”

All beings suffer. Today, even the Best Actor is dripping with jealousy.