Did the Movie Emperor Blow His Cover Today? - Chapter 63

Chapter 63

“Ouch! Ouch, ouch, ouch!” Tao Hui lay face-down on the bed, her face buried in the pillow, her fingers gripping the sheets tightly. “Han Buji, be gentler!”

Han Buji, sitting beside the bed, poured medicinal oil into his palm, warmed it by rubbing, and then pressed his hand against Tao Hui’s lower back. “You weren’t careful enough during filming. Now you feel the pain, huh?”

It was an old injury from filming Drug Enforcement Storm. Tao Hui had been a workaholic on set, insisting on performing a scene where she fell down the stairs herself, resulting in a sprained lower back.

Injuries to bones and tendons take a hundred days to heal, and the pain had lingered ever since.

Tao Hui turned her head, revealing half her face, her expression pitiful. “Director Lu even praised me, said I was a rare talent and that my acting was explosive!”

“It’s been two months since the injury, and it still hasn’t healed? Is it here?” Han Buji pressed his oil-slicked fingertip against the spot.

“Hiss… right there. Be gentler, please,” Tao Hui strained to look at Han Buji, her butterfly bones prominent, her swan-like neck curving gracefully.

Han Buji gently massaged Tao Hui’s lower back, the medicinal oil’s aroma filling the room. He leaned down and lightly kissed her earlobe, smiling. “Let’s find something else to distract you. The pain will fade away.”

“Mmm,” Tao Hui murmured, her cheeks flushing. With a practiced twist, she turned to kiss Han Buji.

A kiss cures all ills, she thought. Her side pain indeed eased, proving even more potent than plain water.

Just after the New Year, Li Biao’s company declared bankruptcy. Han Buji acquired it for a pittance and transferred ownership directly to Tao Hui, calling it a New Year’s gift.

According to Wu Yue, an insider, President Han had declared that day, “The company now belongs to Tao Hui. Everyone who wronged her will pay the price.”

Tao Hui dismissed this as nonsense. Han Buji was a reserved man, not some domineering CEO from a cheesy drama. He’d never utter such melodramatic lines. Wu Yue was likely just spinning tall tales to impress gullible CP fans like Gao Meng and Miao Miao.

After the New Year, Han You, who had attempted suicide, was discharged from the hospital. However, her mental state remained fragile. Rumors circulated that she often talked to herself and wandered her house in sunglasses all day.

When Miao Miao relayed this gossip to Tao Hui, a mysterious smile played on her lips. Clearly brainwashed by Wu Yue’s exaggerated CEO saga, she declared, “Sister Huihui, everyone who wronged you will pay the price! Best Actor Han must have sent someone after them!”

Tao Hui didn’t understand. “What do you mean?” she asked, confused.

Miao Miao made a slashing motion across her neck. “Make those who wronged you pay the price!”

“Ugh…” Tao Hui sighed. She’d have to tell Zhou Xun to win more money from Wu Yue during their mahjong games.

Tao Hui found Han You’s descent into madness and her constant sunglasses-wearing utterly absurd. Could a fake pair of Chanel sunglasses really have such a devastating impact?

When people turn ruthless, they spare no one, not even themselves, Tao Hui thought.

Drug Enforcement Storm was submitted to film festivals at the end of the year and released as a Lunar New Year film. Typically, such holiday releases were comedies or crowd-pleasing genres, making the market for a heavy, realistic drug enforcement drama uncertain.

The entire Drug Enforcement team had modest expectations, but the film’s box office performance exceeded all predictions. Throughout the winter break, Drug Enforcement Storm dominated conversations, sparking discussions about the heinousness of drug traffickers and the hardships faced by drug enforcement police.

Tao Hui’s acting proved to be a revelation. Even her dedicated fans and CP fans proudly praised their goddess’s performance.

A globally renowned director even posted on Weibo, praising Drug Enforcement Storm as a rare gem and Tao Hui as a powerfully charismatic actress, expressing his eagerness to collaborate with her.

In June, as early summer warmed Beijing without becoming stifling, Tao Hui and Han Buji received simultaneous invitations to attend the Film Festival.

Five years after her last appearance, Tao Hui finally stepped onto the Film Festival grounds again. She wore a simple white knee-length dress paired with white diamond-studded heels, her hair styled in a half-updo with a playful topknot. Loose, air-curled strands framed her face, blending elegance with a touch of whimsy.

She linked arms with Han Buji, clutching a small clutch, her red lips and pearly white teeth radiating a radiant smile.

Han Buji wore an all-white suit with simple wire-rimmed glasses. While such an ensemble might suggest a “refined villain” on others, Han Buji exuded pure gentlemanly charm.

As the pair entered the venue and walked the red carpet, a wave of screams erupted from the crowd.

One particularly endearing reporter, stumbling over his words as he squeezed into a spot diagonally ahead of Han Buji and Tao Hui, was clearly meant to ask a headline-grabbing question. Instead, microphone in hand, he murmured in a daze, “Are Best Actor Han and Tao Hui here to get married? They look so perfect in white together.”

The surrounding reporters suppressed their laughter. Han Buji raised an eyebrow and chuckled, “I’d love to, but Miss Tao would have to agree, wouldn’t she?”

Other celebrities on the red carpet let out playful “oohs.” Behind them, Meng Xue, a 35-year-old actress who had been single her entire life, was waving to the crowd while holding up her skirt. Hearing Han Buji’s words, she turned to walk back the way she came.

“I must have taken a wrong turn,” Meng Xue called out loudly as she walked. “This place is overflowing with PDA! It’s too much for me!”

The reporters and celebrities erupted in laughter. After taking a few steps, Meng Xue turned back and shouted, “When’s Han Buji getting married? Should I take on a couple extra roles this year to save up for the wedding gift?”

Han Buji smiled and nodded. “It’s up to Tao Hui. Ask her.”

Tao Hui’s face flushed crimson. She covered her cheek with one hand and nudged Han Buji with her elbow. “Stop it! Let’s go!”

Many of the celebrities entering behind them were close to Han Buji. Following his lead, they told reporters, “Quick, take more photos of me! My goal this year is to work hard and take on more roles so I can save up for the wedding!”

The red carpet hadn’t seen such a relaxed and friendly atmosphere in ages. Reporters and celebrities mingled harmoniously.

The remaining half of the red carpet was practically drowned in screams. It couldn’t be helped; this couple was just too popular. Xu Chang, who had starred alongside them in Sheng Jue, had even publicly declared himself their CP fan.

Xu Chang himself had said, “I don’t know why, but whenever I see Tao Hui and Brother Han together, I just want to ship them! At Weibo Night two years ago, the moment they appeared, I thought, ‘Damn, they’re a perfect match!’ If you want to know, I’m a longtime ‘No Way CP’ fan—I even have one of the first-edition support banners! Call me ‘No Way Boy’!”

The Film Festival venue was teeming with celebrities; you could hardly walk two steps without bumping into a star familiar from television.

Tao Hui had initially stayed close to Han Buji, but her last invitation to the festival had been five years ago. Han Buji, on the other hand, attended every year and naturally knew far more people.

While Han Buji was exchanging pleasantries with acquaintances, Tao Hui wandered over to the long table laden with drinks and poured herself a glass of sparkling white wine.

Just as she brought the glass to her lips, a familiar scent of cedar brushed past her. Tao Hui reflexively turned her head, but instead of Han Buji, she saw a man wearing a half-face masquerade mask walking past.

The black feathers on the man’s mask shimmered under the lamplight. Dressed in a crisp white shirt with his hands tucked into his pockets and his chin slightly raised, he exuded an air of arrogance that stood in stark contrast to Han Buji’s refined gentlemanly demeanor.

Tao Hui paused, realizing the cedar scent she’d noticed earlier lacked the gentle warmth of Han Buji’s cologne, carrying instead a cold, sharp edge.

As she stared at the tall, retreating figure, her gaze landed on the embroidered dragon coiled around the masked man’s right sleeve. Before she could examine it further, a “tsk” sounded behind her.

Tao Hui turned to see Han Buji leaning against her back, smiling. “What are you looking at?” he asked.

“Just a man…” Tao Hui replied, still slightly dazed. Sensing the shift in the atmosphere behind her, she quickly added, “No, wait—there’s a man whose cologne smells similar to yours. I thought it was you for a moment.”

“Oh.” Han Buji glanced in the direction Tao Hui had been looking and spotted the figure. “Wei Chun, a singer. He’s incredibly talented. Unruly Entertainment tried to sign him, but he refused.”

Tao Hui was puzzled, considering Han Buji’s company was one of the top entertainment agencies in the country. “Rejected?”

“Yeah, he refused to sign. Said he’s just making music for fun,” Han Buji chuckled, a sudden smile playing on his lips. “Pretty arrogant.”

“Why is he wearing a mask?” Tao Hui glanced back again. The man was leaning against the wall, talking to a gentle-looking man, the curve of his lips hinting at a touch of cynicism.

“Girlfriend,” Han Buji called out meaningfully, “your boyfriend’s right here. Why are you so curious about another man?”

Tao Hui clung to Han Buji’s arm. “No way! My heart’s all yours—right here in your pocket.”

“Hmm?” Han Buji raised an eyebrow and patted his suit pocket. To his surprise, he pulled out a small paper heart. “When did you put this in here?”

“Hehe, surprise!” Tao Hui looped her arm through his and grinned. “I only failed about a hundred times before I finally folded one. It’s to bless you to win another Golden Man today, Best Actor Han.”

Han Buji affectionately ruffled Tao Hui’s hair.

Tao Hui’s eyes darted around. “So, why does that singer Wei Chun wear a mask?”

“No idea!” Han Buji pulled her closer, his voice drawling, “Oh, right, the Film Festival ends today. I’ll take you to meet Jiang Tian.”

“Who? A girl?” Tao Hui’s eyes widened.

“Yeah, the one who makes my perfumes. Female. Childhood friend,” Han Buji said deliberately.

“Han Buji!” Tao Hui puffed out her cheeks like an angry pufferfish.

Han Buji chuckled. “I ordered a custom fragrance for you. Want to pick it up after the festival?”

“Hmph! You’re just using me as an excuse to see your childhood sweetheart!” Tao Hui dramatically declared, “Have you set a wedding date yet? How many kids are you planning? Where will the ceremony be?”

“Tsk, that all depends on you, doesn’t it?” Han Buji replied.

Gu Yuan, the former Best Actor, happened to pass behind them and overheard their conversation. He shook his head, smiling wistfully. “Ah, young love… such fond memories.”

The couple continued their playful banter as they walked toward the seating area. For some reason, the organizers had assigned Han Buji and Tao Hui seats that weren’t next to each other.

Separating them was another actor—Meng Xue, the “leftover woman” who had teased them on the red carpet earlier.

Meng Xue glanced left at Tao Hui, then right at Han Buji, and sighed. “…Come on, let’s switch seats. I don’t want to be stuck between you two.”

As the Film Festival awards ceremony began, the lights dimmed. Invited singer Wei Chun took the stage to open the show with a song. His voice was surprisingly gentle, completely at odds with his flamboyant persona.

Despite his wild reputation, Wei Chun never removed his mask. After finishing his song, he bowed to the applause and exited the stage, followed immediately by the awards presentations.

When the nominees for Best Actor were announced, Tao Hui was even more nervous than Han Buji. She gripped his hand tightly until the host finally called out his name, at which point she exhaled in relief.

The spotlight shone on Han Buji, who smiled and waved.

In that moment, Tao Hui felt a wave of nostalgia. She suddenly remembered their first meeting when she was fourteen. The sea breeze carried the warm scent of seaweed as the clean-cut young man stood by the shore, like a serene oil painting.

Nearly a decade later, approaching thirty, Han Buji still retained that youthful aura. A calm smile played on his face, untouched by the accolades, and his eyes were so deep and captivating that one couldn’t look away.

As the camera panned away, Han Buji leaned close to Tao Hui’s ear, chuckling softly, “Girlfriend, you were staring at me a little too intently just now.”

“So-so what?” Tao Hui’s ears flushed hot, but she stubbornly retorted, “It just means you’re the only one in my eyes and heart!”

“No harm done,” Han Buji glanced at the camera. “We’re live, and the camera was filming the whole time…”

Before he could finish, Tao Hui covered her crimson face, muttering, “I hope the fans didn’t see that!”

The cameraman, who had already subtly repositioned the camera, captured the entire scene perfectly. He then smiled mysteriously, keeping his accomplishment hidden.

The awards ceremony was being broadcast live, and fans watching on TV, computers, and phones clutched their chests and screamed at the sight of Han Buji and Tao Hui’s interaction.

Gao Meng, watching the ceremony on her laptop, saw her favorite couple’s interaction. When she saw the boss say something that made Rabbit cover her blushing face and murmur to herself, Gao Meng clutched her chest and howled, “Ah! Mom! I want to get married!”

Lu Xiaotang, who was cooking in the kitchen, poked his head out, spatula in hand. “Miss Tao, I’ll marry you!”

“Go back to cooking,” Gao Meng said, lifting her eyelids. “You were in Drug Enforcement Storm too. Why didn’t the Film Festival invite you?”

“Hey, isn’t it obvious?” Lu Xiaotang grinned, flashing a row of white teeth. “Heaven must have worried my little goddess Mengmeng would go hungry, so they kept me here to cook for you.”

Gao Meng quickly changed the subject. “…Do you think the Boss and Rabbit will win awards?”

Lu Xiaotang shouted from the kitchen as he stirred the wok, “Brother Han’s a sure thing! Tao Hui’s a maybe—Director Lu said she has a chance.”

Just as they were talking, the host announced the Best Actor winner: “And the Best Actor award goes to… Han Buji!”

A wave of enthusiastic applause erupted from the audience. Han Buji stood up, smoothed his suit with a smile, and turned back to pat Tao Hui’s head. “Wait here,” he said. “I’m going to pick up an award.”

The stars in the audience and the host on stage erupted in cheers and teasing. Tao Hui watched Han Buji walk to the stage to accept his award, her heart pounding with excitement.

Under the spotlight, every move this man made tugged at the strings of her heart.

For a fleeting moment, Tao Hui suddenly wished she could stand on that award stage too. Any award would do—she had something she wanted to say to Han Buji.

Han Buji, I’ve always forgotten to tell you about every moment my heart fluttered for you.

The host teased with a smile, “Congratulations to Best Actor Han for winning the Golden Man Award for the seventh consecutive year! Do you think collecting all seven trophies will summon something else? Perhaps a little red book with our photo on it?”

Han Buji chuckled, holding up his trophy. “I hope so. Arranging seven into a heart shape is tricky. Eight would be perfect. Could I get next year’s trophy early?”

The audience erupted in laughter. After accepting his award and bowing deeply, Han Buji turned to leave the stage when the host called out, “Best Actor Han, would you announce the nominees for Best Actress?”

Tao Hui, seated in the audience, felt her heart race at those words.

Han Buji grinned. “Me? If I announce it, the Golden Man is definitely going to my girlfriend. I wouldn’t be happy if anyone else won, and if I’m not happy, I might just wreck the place.”

Previous Film Festivals had never been this entertaining. Han Buji, usually reserved, had become quite the talker since Tao Hui entered his life—or rather, whenever the conversation turned to her. He not only showered his girlfriend with mindless praise but also flaunted their affection to dizzying heights.

Even the Han Meimeis, the devoted fans of Best Actor Han, had come to realize the truth. One of them had posted online:

<i>The aloof Best Actor Han, a man of icy demeanor, melts into smiles at the sight of Rabbit. He’s a rainbow-colored compliment machine, showering her with affection until people are practically floating away.</i>

Another filmmaker, who had brought his wife to the ceremony, called out from the audience with a laugh, “Hey, buddy, give us a break! Stop showing off! My wife’s been pinching me ever since we saw you two, telling me to learn from you!”

Han Buji’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he raised the golden statuette. “I really want to show off just a little more.”

The Han Meimeis watching on television facepalmed, muttering to themselves, “Here it comes, here it comes! He’s coming, he’s coming, he’s coming to flaunt his love!”

As if on cue, the Best Actor pulled a small red paper heart from his pocket—the one Tao Hui had folded for him—and held it up. “Look, my girlfriend even folded me a good luck charm to help me win tonight.”