Did the Movie Emperor Blow His Cover Today? - Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The battlefield was littered with corpses, the eerie silence after the slaughter sending shivers down one’s spine. Blood mingled with dust, swirling through this hellish landscape. Amidst the desolation stood a lone figure, Dongchuan, the Third Prince of the Dongxiao Kingdom.

Dongchuan’s sword dripped with blood, his body riddled with wounds, yet his steps remained steady.

Suddenly, a gust of wind swept past him. Dongchuan whirled around to see a white-clad figure already before him. “Who goes there!”

Tao Hui, suspended by a wire, descended from the sky. As Qing Wan, her character, she wielded a longsword with overwhelming force, her face expressionless. Her voice, cold as the night wind in a desolate valley, echoed, “The one who will take your life.”

Dongchuan turned fully, barely managing to block Tao Hui’s sword with his own. The black xuan iron blade clashed against the white jade sword carved with peach blossoms with a resounding clang.

The moment Dongchuan turned, the aura radiating from him and the intensity in his eyes startled Qing Wan. Then she noticed the arrow deeply embedded in his chest, blood trickling from the wound.

“You…” Qing Wan stumbled back three steps from the force of the block, only to see Dongchuan suddenly frown and collapse stiffly to the ground.

Click! The floor manager clapped the clapperboard. “Sheng Jue, Scene 194, Take 1, Action!”

“Wow, that’s a wrap!” The crew cheered, rushing to help Tao Hui remove her harness. “Great job! Thanks to you, we can all get some rest early today.”

Tao Hui hadn’t expected to nail the scene in one take. Her face beamed with surprise as she smiled at the crew and fellow actors. “Thank you all for your hard work! Thank you, teachers, thank you, seniors!”

She rubbed her shoulder, sore from the harness, and noticed Han Buji sitting on the ground, looking up and talking to the crew. Hesitating for a moment, she approached him and extended her hand. “Teacher Han, thank you for your hard work.”

Han Buji stared at her outstretched hand, his eyebrow twitching slightly. He placed his hand in hers, using her grip to stand up. “You worked hard too,” he said with a faint smile.

Their hands parted immediately.

Tao Hui stood at 167 cm, while Han Buji towered over her at 186 cm. As he stood, she had to crane her neck to look at him. Awkwardly, she shifted her left arm, which was hidden beneath her sleeve, and murmured, “The doctor said the burn would get worse if I didn’t cool it down right away. Thanks for your help.”

Han Buji glanced at her sleeve-covered burn, waved dismissively, and turned away.

Ugh, I just thanked him! Why is he acting so aloof? What’s with this “I’m too humble to accept praise” act?!

After returning to the hotel, Han You arrived with a pile of medicinal creams. Under Miao Miao’s wary glare, she said cautiously, “I asked my manager to buy these, Sister Tao Hui. See if they’re useful. I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault for being so reckless.”

Tao Hui noticed Han You’s eyes were red again. She quickly shoved a piece of fried chicken into her mouth. “Stop crying! I’ve made you and Miao Miao cry so much today your heads must be throbbing. You have a shoot tomorrow morning—do you want to film with swollen eyes?”

Han You whimpered and took a bite of the chicken, smacking her greasy lips. “Sister Tao Hui, you’re so kind!” she mumbled through the food. “Eat more fried chicken! If you can’t find a husband, I’ll take care of you!”

Tao Hui gritted her teeth, waving her oily hand threateningly. “Why wouldn’t I find a husband? I was once the nation’s first love!”

Aside from Tao Hui and Han You, the other actresses on set were much older—many were seasoned veterans whose performances Tao Hui had grown up watching.

Earlier, when Tao Hui returned to the hotel, she had seen the actress playing Han Buji’s mother—sorry, the actress playing Han Buji’s mother—and the actress playing Xu Chang’s mother practicing tai chi to soft music in the lobby.

Tao Hui completely understood Han You’s loneliness and generously let her and Miao Miao mess around in her room for over two hours, even letting them finish all her fried chicken.

Tao Hui hadn’t expected Xu Chang’s assistant to knock on her door. She returned with a pile of burn ointment, puzzled, and asked Miao Miao, “Did I only say one thing to Xu Chang today? He’s so kind to send all this burn ointment.”

Miao Miao, sucking on a chicken bone, pursed her lips. “Sister Xun always said, ‘Beware of those who offer unsolicited kindness—they’re either up to no good or scheming something.'”

She then teased Han You, “Hey, Sister Youyou, you and Sister Huihui hit it off so well. Are you two plotting something?”

Han You, still holding a chicken bone in her mouth, froze. Her face paled instantly. “I-I’m not!”

As the two girls bickered, Tao Hui flipped through her script, secretly worried. Tomorrow was another scene with Han Buji, and she needed to portray Qing Wan’s conflicting emotions—rationally wanting to kill him, yet emotionally unable to bring herself to do it.

In other words, when she thrust her white jade sword forward, the force couldn’t be too strong. It had to be easily blocked by Han Buji’s Prince.

Miao Miao leaned over curiously, chicken leg in hand, and gestured with it. “This Qing Wan’s acting weird. She’s not killing people anymore? And she’s got a crush on the Third Prince?”

Tao Hui nodded furiously in her mind, wanting to scream, “Goddamn idiot! You’re an assassin! Assassins make a living by killing people! You’re starving yourself over some man? What’s so great about him? Aren’t chicken drumsticks delicious enough?”

But she was an actress, after all, and had to stay in character.

So Tao Hui adopted a profound expression. “When Qing Wan took on the mission, she didn’t know the Third Prince. He’s a formidable figure. Once she learned about his background, she couldn’t remain a heartless killer. She grew to admire him, secretly falling in love, and couldn’t bring herself to kill him.”

The two girls, having eaten their fill at Tao Hui’s place, yawned and excused themselves, leaving Tao Hui alone in her hotel room.

Tao Hui picked out the most expensive-looking burn ointment and was about to apply it to her arm when there was another knock at the door.

Who now?

Tao Hui opened the door to find Gao Meng, Han Buji’s assistant, standing there with a cheerful smile, adjusting her glasses. “Hello! I’ve brought you some burn ointment. I hope you recover soon!”

Tao Hui didn’t want to accept anything from Han Buji, but Gao Meng glanced around furtively before suddenly pulling out an autographed board from behind her back, her eyes sparkling. “Rabbit! I’m Rabbit Fur! Could you please sign this for me?”

Tao Hui’s life motto, “Rabbit Fur Meat, A-Juice, Goose Take Zdei.” (Tù máo ròu, A zī, é ná zé dei.)

It’s just the English phrase “Tomorrow is another day.”

Tao Hui hated memorizing vocabulary in school. She could pronounce words but couldn’t spell them, so she always typed them out phonetically to avoid mistakes.

But her fans thought everything their beloved goddess did was adorable.

So Tao Hui’s fans collectively renamed themselves “Rabbit Fur,” and Tao Hui became “Rabbit” in their eyes.

Tao Hui never expected that Han Buji’s top assistant would actually be one of her Rabbit Fur fans. This made it hard to refuse.

And so… she accepted the ointment, signed the autograph, and even took a photo with the excited Gao Meng.

At least her appearance wasn’t wasted. Tao Hui received a stack of signed photos of Han Buji as a return gift from her fans.

Damn it, what a depressing gift!

Tao Hui stormed back to her room, grabbed a signed photo of Han Buji, drew a turtle on it, and tossed it aside. Then she collapsed back onto her bed with the pile of burn creams.

Thirty-seven tubes of burn cream, the most expensive of which was the one Han Buji had sent, complete with scar-healing properties.

Only a fool would turn down free money. Tao Hui also wanted her “disabled arm” to recover quickly. Like an emperor hoarding his harem, she squeezed out a generous dollop of the cream. “I’m only using you because you’re expensive,” she muttered. “If you weren’t, I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole!”

Buzz, buzz, buzz

A voice call request from Little Fanboy.

“Teacher Tao,” his voice was as gentle as ever. “Why did you suddenly hang up this afternoon? Did something happen?”

Tao Hui cradled the phone between her neck and shoulder, thickly applying ointment to her forearm. “Ugh, don’t even mention it. A colleague spilled hot water on my arm—I almost got disfigured.”

“A burn? How severe is it? How are you now?” Little Fanboy asked anxiously.

“Not too bad,” Tao Hui replied, capping the ointment and tossing it onto the desk. “There’s a doctor at work, and they got to me quickly.”

“Oh, the doctor got there quickly,” Little Fanboy repeated.

Tao Hui was a little puzzled by his repetition but brushed it off. “I also owe a lot to another colleague who immediately rinsed the burn with cold water. The doctor said it could have been much worse if they hadn’t done that.”

Little Fanboy suddenly perked up. “Really? Then you owe a lot to your colleague! They must be a wonderful person, right?”

“Um, the person is…” Tao Hui glanced at the tube of burn cream on the table, a third of which she had squeezed out in one go. Feeling awkward about badmouthing its owner in front of the cream itself, she settled on a neutral assessment, “They’re alright. They even brought me this cream earlier, and it feels quite soothing.”

“Is the cream effective? A colleague who brings medicine must be a good person!”

Did Little Fanboy get crushed in a solo game today? Tao Hui wondered. He was acting like a mindless cheerleader for a stranger whose name he didn’t even know.

She didn’t mind his usual gushing, but hearing him praise Han Buji was truly grating.

“It’s just average,” Tao Hui explained. “Other colleagues brought burn cream too.”

“Oh, other colleagues brought burn cream too,” Little Fanboy repeated, switching from mindless cheerleading to parrot mode.

“But the colleague who helped me rinse the burn with cold water seems to have given me the most expensive cream, so I used that one,” Tao Hui said, tucking the tube into a bag. She held her arm aloft to avoid smearing the cream on the bedding and casually added, “It claims it won’t leave a scar. I wonder if that’s true.”

The Little Fanboy grinned. “It must be real! So fancy—it even fades scars! Your colleague is so thoughtful. They must be a great person.”

Tao Hui couldn’t shake the feeling that the Little Fanboy was acting strangely today, his mood swinging wildly.

Is this 19-year-old still going through puberty? How can his emotions be so unstable? Did he get his brain fried from gaming?

Could it be… the legendary man-struation?

The next morning, Miao Miao knocked on Tao Hui’s door and burst into the room. She quickly applied concealer to Tao Hui’s face, then excitedly pulled out her phone. “Sister Huihui, look! I saw Movie Emperor Han downstairs this morning! He was in such a good mood, and that sapphire-blue shirt looked amazing on him! Mom, I’m dying from his handsomeness!”

Tao Hui spat out her mouthful of soy milk, gritting her teeth. “Don’t… mention Han Buji… while I’m eating breakfast!”

They arrived at the film set. Tao Hui’s scenes were scheduled for the afternoon, so she spent the morning watching the other actors, secretly studying their techniques.

Xu Chang, who also had no scenes that morning, suddenly appeared beside Tao Hui and placed a hot coffee in front of her. He grinned, flashing eight pearly white teeth. “You’re Tao Hui, right? You looked stunning in that white robe yesterday. Is your arm feeling better?”

“Much better, thank you for the ointment. Your assistant said you went out to buy it yourself? That was really kind of you.” Tao Hui didn’t quite understand Xu Chang’s sudden enthusiasm, but she’d heard about his naturally outgoing personality, so she didn’t hesitate and chatted casually with him.

“Ah, I was out for dinner yesterday and passed by a pharmacy. You came to mind, so I grabbed it. No trouble at all.” Xu Chang scratched his nose. “Oh, and I brought you coffee. Drink it while it’s hot to perk you up.”

Tao Hui didn’t mention she didn’t drink coffee. She reached for the cup, but her fingers hadn’t even touched it when a deep male voice sounded from above.

“Thanks.” A hand with distinct knuckles snatched the coffee from the table.

Tao Hui looked up and met Han Buji’s piercing gaze. He seemed… rather unhappy?

Wait, didn’t Miao Miao say this morning that the Best Actor was in an exceptionally good mood today?

Han Buji walked away with the coffee, Xu Chang trailing behind him. “Brother Han, why are you stealing coffee from a young lady? That’s not fair! I asked you this morning if you wanted one, and you said no!”

Miao Miao leaned in. “Sister Huihui, what are you looking at?”

Tao Hui turned back expressionlessly. “I’m watching the ‘Best Actor’ you’re so fond of. Why did he steal my coffee and then glare at me like I owe him a million yuan?”

“Huh? Glaring? That can’t be right!” Miao Miao looked bewildered. “I saw him earlier, and he seemed in a good mood. Did I misread him?”

Miao Miao scratched her head. “Besides, Sister Huihui, you never drink coffee anyway, do you?”

Tao Hui didn’t hear Miao Miao’s words. This unpredictable mood felt strangely familiar. Frowning, she pondered for a moment before suddenly remembering the equally moody Little Fanboy from last night.

A realization struck her. Tao Hui grabbed Miao Miao. “I’ve figured out Han Buji’s secret!”

Author’s Note:

Movie Emperor Han: Oh? Tell me more.