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 swirled through the air, turning this place into a living hell. Amidst the desolation stood a solitary figure: Dongchuan, the Third Prince of the Dong’ao Kingdom.

Blood still dripped from the sword in Dongchuan’s hand. Though his body was covered in wounds, his steps remained steady.

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

Tao Hui descended from the sky on a wire, portraying Qing Wan. The longsword in her hand radiated a formidable aura, her face utterly expressionless as she spoke in a voice as cold as the night wind in an empty valley: “The one who will take your life.”

Dongchuan turned just in time to block Tao Hui’s strike with his sword. The black profound iron sword clashed against the white jade sword carved with peach blossoms with a resounding clang.

The moment Dongchuan turned, the aura emanating 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, only to see Dongchuan suddenly grimace and collapse stiffly to the ground.

“Cut!” the assistant director shouted, clapping the clapperboard. “Sheng Jue, Scene 194, Take 1, Action!”

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

Tao Hui hadn’t expected to nail the scene in a single take. Her face beamed with surprise and delight as she smiled warmly 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 a crew member. Hesitating for a moment, Tao Hui approached and extended her hand. “Teacher Han, you’ve worked hard too.”

Han Buji’s gaze lingered on her right hand, his eyebrow twitching slightly. He placed his hand on hers, using the leverage to stand up, and smiled faintly. “You’ve worked hard too.”

Their hands touched briefly before parting.

Tao Hui stood at 167 cm, while Han Buji towered at 186 cm. As he stood, Tao Hui had to crane her neck to look up at him. She awkwardly shifted her scalded left arm, hidden beneath her sleeve, and murmured, “The doctor said it would get worse if I didn’t rinse it with cold water right away. Thanks.”

Han Buji glanced at Tao Hui’s scalded arm, hidden by her sleeve, waved dismissively, and turned to leave.

Ugh, I just thanked him! What’s with the aloof act? Trying to play the humble hero who hides his achievements?

Back at the hotel, Han You arrived with a pile of medicinal creams. Under Miao Miao’s wary glare, she said cautiously, “My manager got these for me, Sister Tao Hui. See if they’ll help. I’m so sorry, I was too reckless.”

Seeing Han You’s eyes reddening again, Tao Hui quickly shoved a piece of fried chicken into her mouth. “Don’t cry! I’ve made you and Miao Miao cry so much today your heads must be throbbing! You have scenes to shoot tomorrow morning—how can you film with swollen eyes?”

Han You whimpered as she bit into the fried chicken, smacking her greasy lips. “Sister Tao Hui, you’re so kind! Eat more chicken! If you never get married, I’ll take care of you!”

Tao Hui gritted her teeth, waving her greasy hand threateningly. “Why wouldn’t I get married?! I was the Nation’s First Love back in the day!”

Apart from Tao Hui and Han You, the other actresses in the production crew were all older. To put it bluntly, many of them were veteran actresses Tao Hui had grown up watching on screen.

Earlier, when returning to the hotel, Tao Hui had even spotted the actress playing Han Buji’s mother—sorry, the actress playing Han Buji’s mother—practicing Tai Chi with the actress playing Xu Chang’s mother downstairs, accompanied by soft music.

Tao Hui completely understood Han You’s loneliness, generously allowing her and Miao Miao to mess around in her room for over two hours and even finishing off 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, feeling utterly bewildered. Turning to Miao Miao, she asked, “Did I only say one word to Xu Chang today? He’s so kind, sending 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 have ulterior motives.'”

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 chewing on a chicken bone, froze, her face turning pale. “I-I’m not!”

As the two girls bickered, Tao Hui flipped through her script, secretly worried. Tomorrow’s scene was still with Han Buji, and she needed to portray the conflicting emotions of wanting to kill him rationally while being emotionally unable to let him go.

This meant her white jade sword had to thrust out with just enough force to be easily blocked by Han Buji’s Prince.

Miao Miao leaned in curiously, waving a chicken leg. “This Qing Wan is acting strange. She’s not killing people anymore? And she’s fallen for the Third Prince?”

Tao Hui mentally nodded furiously, even wanting to shout, “Damn idiot! You’re an assassin! Assassins live by killing! You’re starving yourself over a man? What good is a man? Isn’t a chicken leg more satisfying?”

But she was an actress, after all, and had to stay in character, to become one with her role.

So Tao Hui maintained an air of profound mystery. “Qing Wan didn’t know the Third Prince when she took the mission. He’s a formidable figure. Once she learned his background, she couldn’t remain a heartless killer. She grew to admire him, secretly fell 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 the hotel room.

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

Who could it be now?

Tao Hui opened the door to find Gao Meng, Han Buji’s assistant, standing there, smiling behind her glasses. “Good evening! I’ve brought you burn ointment. Wishing you a speedy recovery!”

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

Tao Hui’s life motto: Rabbit fur meat, A-Zi, goose-take-marsh-day (tùmáoròu, āzī, énázédei).

It was simply the English phrase “tomorrow is another day.”

Back in school, Tao Hui had always hated memorizing vocabulary. She could pronounce the words but never spell them correctly, so to avoid mistakes, she always typed them out phonetically.

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

So Tao Hui’s fans collectively changed their names to “Rabbit Fur,” and Tao Hui became “Rabbit” in their eyes.

Tao Hui never imagined that Han Buji’s top assistant would turn out to be one of her Rabbit Fur fans. This made it impossible to refuse.

And so… she accepted the burn cream, signed the autograph, and even posed for a photo with the ecstatic Gao Meng.

At least the appearance wasn’t a total waste. Tao Hui received a return gift from her fan—a stack of signed photos of Han Buji.

Damn it, what a depressing gift!

Back in her room, Tao Hui grabbed one of Han Buji’s signed photos, drew a turtle on it, and tossed it aside before collapsing back onto her bed with the pile of burn cream.

Among the 37 tubes of burn cream, the most expensive one was from Han Buji, complete with scar-repairing properties.

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

Buzz, buzz, buzz

A voice call request from Little Fanboy.

“Teacher Tao,” Little Fanboy’s voice remained gentle, “why did you suddenly hang up this afternoon? Did something happen?”

Tao Hui cradled the phone between her neck and shoulder as she thickly applied ointment to her forearm. “Ugh, don’t even ask. A colleague spilled hot water on my arm. I nearly got disfigured.”

“A burn? Is it serious? How are you now?” Little Fanboy asked anxiously.

“It’s not too bad.” Tao Hui capped the ointment and tossed it onto the desk. “There’s a doctor at work, and they got to me right away.”

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

Tao Hui was puzzled by his repetition but brushed it off, saying casually, “I also owe a lot to a colleague who immediately rinsed the burn with cold water. The doctor said it would have been much worse without that immediate cold water treatment.”

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

“Well, he’s… okay, I guess,” Tao Hui said, glancing at the tube of burn cream on the table, a third of its contents squeezed out in one go. Feeling awkward praising its owner in front of the cream itself, she settled on a neutral tone. “He brought me this cream earlier, and it feels pretty soothing.”

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

Did Little Fanboy get stomped in solo queue today? Tao Hui wondered. He was now mindlessly praising a stranger whose name he didn’t even know.

Praising others was fine, but Tao Hui couldn’t stand hearing Han Buji praised.

“It’s just average,” she explained. “Other colleagues brought cream too.”

“Oh, other colleagues brought cream too,” Little Fanboy repeated, switching from mindless praise to a broken record.

“But the colleague who helped me with the cold water seems to have given me the most expensive cream, so I used that one,” Tao Hui said casually, putting the burn cream into a bag and holding her arm up to avoid getting it on the blanket. “It says it prevents scarring. I wonder if that’s true.”

Little Fanboy grinned. “It’s probably true. So high-end! Even scar removal. Your colleague is so thoughtful—they must be a great person.”

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

Is this 19-year-old still going through puberty? Why is he so emotionally unstable? Did he get his brain scrambled by getting wrecked in a video game?

Could it be… the legendary “big period” has arrived?

The next morning, Miao Miao knocked on Tao Hui’s door. After applying concealer to Tao Hui’s face, she excitedly pulled out her phone. “Sister Huihui, look! I snapped a photo of Best Actor Han downstairs this morning! He looked so cheerful, and that sapphire-blue shirt suits him perfectly! Mom, I’m about to die from his handsomeness!”

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

The two rode to the film set together. Tao Hui’s scenes were still scheduled for the afternoon, so she spent the morning watching the other actors perform, secretly studying their techniques.

Xu Chang, who also had no scenes that morning, suddenly appeared beside Tao Hui and placed a cup of hot coffee in front of her, grinning to reveal eight pearly-white teeth. “You’re Tao Hui, right? I saw you in that white robe yesterday—it looked stunning on you. Is your arm feeling any better?”

“Much better, thank you for the ointment. Your assistant said you went out to buy it? You really shouldn’t have bothered.” Tao Hui didn’t quite understand Xu Chang’s sudden enthusiasm, but she had heard about his naturally outgoing personality, so she didn’t hesitate to chat casually with him for a few minutes.

“Ah, I was grabbing dinner last night and passed a pharmacy. I remembered you and picked it up on the way. No trouble at all.” Xu Chang rubbed his nose. “Oh, and I brought you coffee. Drink it while it’s hot—it’ll help you wake up.”

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

“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 like a shadow. “Brother Han, why are you stealing coffee from the girl? That’s so unfair! I asked you if you wanted one this morning, and you said no!”

Miao Miao leaned closer. “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. Maybe I misread the situation?”

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

Tao Hui didn’t hear Miao Miao’s words. This unpredictable mood felt strangely familiar. She frowned, thinking hard, and suddenly remembered the equally moody Little Fanboy from last night.

A flash of insight struck her. Tao Hui grabbed Miao Miao’s arm. “I know Han Buji’s secret!”