I, Hiroshi Nohara, the star of Japanese cinema

Chapter 239 Confirmed! It's this kind of food documentary! Hiroshi Nohara's direct understanding of food!

The small conference room on the third floor of the Guandongtai building felt even more cramped than the large conference room. The edges of the wooden tables and chairs by the window were worn smooth, and there was a coffee stain on the corner of the table that hadn't been wiped clean—judging from the color, it looked like it was from last week.

The Tokyo TV staff were crammed inside, clutching the Kanto TV ledgers, the pages rustling as they turned. The air was filled with the faint aroma of Uji tea, though the tea had long since gone cold.

The first to break the silence was Hashimoto Ichiro, who was holding the “Kanto TV Documentary Ratings Chart for the Past Three Years” in his hand, his brows furrowed so deeply they could trap a mosquito: “I say, everyone, is Nohara-sama serious? A humanistic documentary? How long has it been since TV Tokyo has touched this kind of thing? Last time, a senior colleague made ‘Old-fashioned Love Under the Cherry Blossoms,’ and the ratings were only 3.2%, and in the end, the station criticized it for ‘wasting the budget.’”

His words were like a pebble thrown into water, immediately sparking discussion.

Kenji Ito leaned back in his chair, twirling a pen in his hand, his tone tinged with a hint of bewilderment: "Exactly! Hashimoto-kun, think about it, what are we doing right now? 'Super Transformation' has broken 40% in ratings, 'Tales of the Unusual' is consistently above 20%, and even the rebroadcast of the 'Midnight Diner' TV drama has 10% viewership. Documentaries are expensive and time-consuming, and nobody watches them after they're made, so what's the point?"

Sitting in the corner, Ashikaga Takashi put down his ledger and spoke with his usual arrogance: "It's not that I think documentaries are bad, it's just that Kanto TV is in such a state right now, where do they have the resources to mess around? They can barely even turn on the cameras they use to film local news, let alone make documentaries. Besides, samurai films and heartwarming films are what can carry viewership. Viewers have already switched channels for this kind of slow-paced stuff."

Sato, the director standing next to him, nodded in agreement. He had worked at Kanto TV for two years and was familiar with the situation there: "Ashikaga-san is right! Ten years ago, Kanto TV was filming 'Kanto Folk Customs Travelogue.' Matsui-san and his team spent three months there, and what was the result? The ratings didn't even reach 2.3%. In the end, the board of directors canceled the project and even cut the production department's budget in half. Now, Manager Nohara is asking them to make another documentary. Isn't that jumping into a fire pit?"

Director Watanabe frowned, flipping through the preliminary proposal for "A Bite of Neon Japan": "There's this name, 'A Bite of Neon Japan'? It sounds like a food program, but the proposal also mentions filming 'people,' including old craftsmen and fishermen. Is it a food documentary or a character documentary? Will the audience not like it? Besides, the city TV station is currently filming 'Exploring the Tokyo Area,' with Shunsuke Kamiki as the host. Young people love watching it. If we compete with them on the same subject matter, can we win?"

The atmosphere in the meeting room grew increasingly somber, with everyone offering their own pessimistic opinions.

Hashimoto Ichiro sighed, recalling how he had been driven to desperation after betraying Hiroshi, and how Hiroshi had pulled him back into the production department despite past grievances. He felt a pang of resentment: "It's not that I don't trust Director Nohara, it's just... the risk this time is just too great. If Kanto TV collapses, those of us who came with them might also be implicated."

Just then, Asano Kita, who had been silent all along, suddenly spoke up.

He gently placed the ledger on the table, his face still bearing that amiable smile, but his tone was very serious: "Everyone, have we forgotten something? When has Minister Nohara ever let us down?"

These words instantly silenced the noisy conference room.

Asano looked at everyone and continued, "When he was about to film 'Yamishibai,' everyone said, 'Nobody watches urban ghost stories,' but what happened? It broke 12% in viewership during the midnight slot and created a new genre. Now all the TV stations in Japan are learning from it. Later, when he filmed 'Seven Samurai,' some people said, 'Samurai films are outdated.' But it grossed over 89 billion yen, and even Eiji Kurosawa praised him for 'capturing the soul of the samurai.' And then there's 'Super Transformation.' At first, nobody wanted to sign up, but he took Tanaka-kun to the streets to promote it, and now it's the number one variety show in the country. Governor Koike even specifically praised him for 'changing the indifference of Japan.'"

He paused, picked up the "Neon Flavors" proposal on the table, and pointed to the page on "Traditional Northeast Crafts": "You guys think he's just messing around with this documentary, but I think he already had a plan in mind. He never follows trends when making programs; he finds what the audience truly needs. Now that people are used to lively variety shows and exciting dramas, they might want to watch documentaries with heart—like 'Midnight Diner,' which had no big stars and no grand scenes, yet it still became a hit, didn't it?"

No one spoke in the meeting room.

Ichiro Hashimoto recalled that when he was working with Hiroshi on "Yamishibai", Hiroshi stayed up all night revising the storyboards and didn't even have time to drink coffee.
Kenji Ito recalled that when Hiroshi directed the TV drama version of "Midnight Diner", he specially took them to Mizukami Sho's diner to experience life and taught them how to capture the subtle expressions of ordinary people.
Takashi Ashikaga recalled that when he went to see the premiere of "Seven Samurai," he almost couldn't help but applaud when he saw the scene of the final battle in the rice paddies—the camera work was more stunning than any period film he had ever made.

“Asano-san is right.” Hashimoto Ichiro spoke first, his tone tinged with guilt. “I was being too naive. Nohara-sama never does anything without a plan. Since he decided to make a documentary, he must have his reasons.”

“That’s right!” Kenji Ito nodded in agreement, his enthusiasm returning. “Last time we were filming ‘Midnight Diner,’ he said, ‘Good shows aren’t made for the judges, they’re made for the audience,’ and it really became a hit. Maybe ‘A Bite of Japan’ will bring us a surprise this time too.”

Ashikaga Takashi snorted, but his tone softened: "You do have some taste. But if he messes it up, I won't speak up for him."

Everyone laughed, and their earlier worries dissipated considerably.

Director Sato laughed and said, "Even if we mess it up, Director Nohara has a way to fix it—his mind works much faster than ours. Last time, there was a segment in 'Tales of the Unusual' that didn't get good ratings, and he changed the script for the next episode the very next day, and the ratings jumped by 3%."

Just then, the conference room door was gently pushed open, and Takashi Yamada, Ken Fujishita, Hiroshi Kimura, Kijiro Kobayashi, and Shigeru Saito walked in.

They were there to serve tea to the people from TV Tokyo. They had overheard the conversation inside from the doorway and were looking on with curiosity.

Takashi Yamada put down his teapot and said with a smile, "You all had a lively conversation just now. Were you talking about Nohara-san's reform plan?"

Kenji Ito nodded, his tone tinged with pride: "Yes, we were talking about the film 'A Bite of Japan' that Nohara is going to make. Although we were a little worried at first, we now think it will work."

Fujishita Ken patted his beer belly, his eyes full of curiosity: "Speaking of which, we've heard Suzuki Seito mention Nohara-san before, saying he's incredibly talented, and his achievements are frequently reported in the newspapers, like the box office success of 'Seven Samurai' and the best-selling 'Doraemon' manga. But we'd still like to hear what you all have to say—is Nohara-san really that amazing?"

His words immediately energized the staff at TV Tokyo.

Hashimoto Ichiro cleared his throat, his tone respectful: "Fujishita-san, you haven't worked with Director Nohara, so you don't know how amazing he is. Let me tell you, when I made a mistake and betrayed him, and I was at my wit's end, he pulled me back and even made me the head of the animation production department, in charge of 'Yamishibai'."

He paused, recalling the scene, his eyes filled with gratitude: "At first, nobody had high hopes for 'Yamishibai,' and the production staff were unwilling to participate. It was Manager Nohara who personally stayed up all night drawing storyboards and applied for a budget from the station before it was finally filmed. When it aired, it was in the early morning slot, who would have thought that the ratings would break 12%? Now 'Yamishibai' is in its fourth season, and it's still very popular."

Kenji Ito added, "When I was in charge of the TV drama adaptation of 'Midnight Diner,' I didn't know how to film it in a way that would capture the feel of the manga. It was Manager Nohara who took us to Mizukami Sho-san's diner and had us observe the customers' expressions and listen to their stories. He also said, 'To film the lives of ordinary people, you have to step into their lives.' In the end, the result was exceptionally good, and viewers said, 'It's like watching something that happens around us.'"

Although Takashi Ashikaga was a man of few words, he added, "When he was filming 'Seven Samurai,' he specifically went to the ancient architectural complexes of Kyoto to recreate the Sengoku period scenes, and even invited Eiji Kurosawa as a consultant. There was a scene of a decisive battle in the rice paddies that took a whole week to film. If the weather was bad, they would wait; if the actors weren't in the right state, they would reshoot. They didn't compromise at all. When the final cut came out, Kurosawa said, 'This is a true samurai film.' Isn't that amazing?"

Kita Asano added with a smile, "And then there's 'Super Transformation.' At first, no one was willing to sign up, so Director Nohara took Tanaka to the streets and schools to promote it. He even personally designed a few simple costume plans and taught everyone how to play. Now 'Super Transformation' has become the number one variety show in the country, and even elementary school students know about the show. There's been more interaction between people—Governor Koike even specifically praised him for 'promoting social harmony in Japan.'"

Director Sato also said, "Minister Nohara is also particularly good at discovering talent. Last time, Honda Sakurako from Kanto TV wanted to make a documentary about 'exploring old streets,' right? Matsui-san thought no one would watch it and rejected the proposal. But after Minister Nohara heard about it, he specifically talked to Honda Sakurako and said he would support her in making it. Tell me, where can you find a leader who understands programs and knows how to treat people like this?"

The people from Kanto were stunned.

Fujishita Ken's mouth dropped open, and he almost dropped his teacup on the table: "My God! A midnight anime broke 12%? Seven Samurai even got praised by Eiji Kurosawa? That's amazing! Nohara-san is only 23 years old. When I was 23, I was still serving coffee to my seniors!"

Hiroshi Kimura pushed up his glasses, his tone full of emotion: "And he's also a director and a manga artist. 'Yu Yu Hakusho,' 'Doraemon,' and 'Midnight Diner' are all top-tier works by Shueisha. My daughter watches 'Doraemon' every day and says she wants a Doraemon pocket. I didn't even know the author was Nohara-san—so young, yet so full of energy!"

Kobayashi Jiro flipped through his notebook, his tone filled with admiration: "I was worried before that Nohara-san was too young and wouldn't be able to handle the station's veterans, but now it seems I was overthinking it. To earn the respect of Kurosawa Eiji-senpai and to have Director Sakata make an exception for the independent production department, such a person must have extraordinary abilities."

Although Saito Shigeru didn't speak, a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes, and he loosened his grip on the pager a little—he used to think that Hiroshi was just lucky, but now he realized that these achievements were all earned through hard work.

Takashi Yamada sighed, his tone tinged with emotion: "Seito Suzuki wasn't lying to us, Nohara-san is indeed a genius. But he's also very reliable. Just now in the main conference room, he said he wanted to work with us to find solutions, not to boss us around. A leader like that is worth following."

Just then, Hashimoto Ichiro suddenly revealed a sly smile and lowered his voice, saying, "Let me tell you a secret. Director Sakata is particularly fond of Director Nohara. Did you know that? Director Nohara's independent production department was approved as an exception—only elite second-level directors get this treatment, but he, a third-level director, has it. Last time, when 'Seven Samurai' was a huge hit, Director Sakata even specially added 200 million yen to the production department's budget, saying, 'Let Nohara-kun use it as he pleases.'"

Kenji Ito nodded in agreement, his tone tinged with mystery: "And another thing, everyone in the station is saying that Director Nohara is the future of TV Tokyo. Director Sakata often tells people, 'Nohara-kun is much more capable than I was in my youth.' Some even say that when Director Sakata retires, Director Nohara might take over as the head of the production department—just think about it, 23 years old! If he really becomes the head, he'll be the youngest head in TV Tokyo's history!"

Everyone at Kanto TV stared wide-eyed, their faces filled with shock. Fujishita Ken blurted out instinctively, "My God! In Japan, saying someone is the 'future' means they'll take over, right? Is Director Sakata going to hand over Tokyo TV to Nohara-san? This is unbelievable!"

Takashi Yamada was also shocked. He had worked at the television station for thirty years and had never seen someone so young who was being given such high expectations: "There have been talented directors before, but at most they won a few awards. This is the first person like Nohara-san who is being groomed as the future by the station director. But thinking about it, it makes sense. He is talented, down-to-earth, and can unite people. He is indeed someone worth entrusting your life to."

Hiroshi Kimura pushed up his glasses, his tone analytical: "Moreover, Nohara-san has connections with Governor Koike and Minister Hattori. Governor Koike even praised 'Super Transformation,' and Minister Hattori supported 'A Bite of Japan.' With these people helping him, his path will be smoother. It's not impossible for him to succeed Director Sakata in the future."

Kobayashi Jiro nodded, his pen flying across his notebook: "If Nohara-san can really become the future of TV Tokyo, then our Kanto TV can rise again by following him. If 'A Bite of Japan' is well-made, our Kanto TV might be able to return to its former glory."

Shigeru Saito finally spoke, his voice still low but with a hint of determination: "The technical department will provide full support. I will bring out the best cameras to ensure that the footage is flawless."

The atmosphere in the meeting room became lively. The people from TV Tokyo talked about Hiroshi's past, while the people from TV Kanto listened with admiration and anticipation in their eyes. Takashi Yamada smiled and said, "It seems we made the right choice in choosing a leader this time. With Nohara-san, we're sure to produce great programs."

Kenya Fujishita laughed and said, "Yes! Once 'A Bite of Japan' is finished, I'm definitely going to show it to the owner of Asakusa-ya, so he'll know that our Kanto TV can also produce great programs. He'll definitely be willing to work with us then!"

Kenji Ito patted Ken Fujishita on the shoulder and said with a smile, "Don't worry, with Captain Nohara here, there won't be any problems. Let's start preparing tomorrow and try to start filming as soon as possible so that the audience can see our strength!"

Everyone laughed, and the air in the meeting room warmed up. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the ledgers and plans on the table, as if casting a glow of hope over the upcoming reforms.

Takashi Yamada refilled everyone's teacups and said with a smile, "Everyone, the tea has gone cold. I'll get you a hot pot. After Nohara-san and Managing Director Asumi finish their meeting, we can discuss the details of the filming together."

Director Sato nodded, his tone filled with anticipation: "Great! I'd also like to talk to Director Nohara about the storyboard for 'A Bite of Japan' and see if he can give me some advice—I used to work on rural-themed films for Kanto TV, so maybe I can be of some help."

Ashikaga Takashi snorted, but also said, "If you need to film period scenes, such as the historical background of old crafts, I can help—after all, I have more experience filming period dramas than you do."

Kita Asano smiled and said, "That's great! Let's work together and we'll definitely make a great show of 'A Bite of Japan' so that all of Japan knows that TV Tokyo and TV Kanto can produce the best programs!"

The laughter in the meeting room grew louder and louder. The previous worries and doubts disappeared, leaving only anticipation for the future. Everyone believed that under Hiroshi Nohara's leadership, Kanto TV would surely be revitalized, and "A Bite of Japan" would definitely become a memorable program for viewers.

Meanwhile, in the large conference room, Hiroshi, Asumi, and Matsui Yuichi were discussing the specific details of the filming.

He was unaware of the conversation taking place in the small conference room, but he could sense the growing enthusiasm in the air—he knew that this reform had made a good start.

The autumn wind was still blowing outside the window, but this time, what blew into the Kantotai office building was no longer desolation and despair, but a power full of hope.

……

Sunlight streamed in from the Kanto-tai conference room, falling on the spread-out white paper and casting a long shadow of Hiroshi Nohara holding a pencil.

The HB pencil between his fingers traced a soft scratch on the paper, the rustling sound mingling with the gentle rustling of the sycamore leaves outside the window, a sound more reassuring than the hum of the air conditioner.

Within minutes, the originally blank paper was covered with simple line drawings—on the left was a fishing boat on the coast of Kamakura, with fishermen bending over to haul in their nets at the bow, and a small note next to it that read, "4 a.m., backlit, highlighting the reflection of the fishing nets"; in the middle was a steamed bun shop in Yokohama's Toa Street, with steam rising from the steamer in a winding pattern, and a note below that read, "6 a.m., sidelit, close-up of the owner's wrist as she kneads the dough"; on the right was the kitchen of a farmhouse in Gunma, where an old woman was putting soba noodles into a pot, with a note that read, "5 p.m., warm light, shot of the splashing water as the noodles are put into the pot and the old woman's wrinkles."

“This is my general idea.” Hiroshi placed the pencil on the edge of the paper and pointed to the title above the sketch, “A Bite of Japan, starting with the Kanto region, divided into three parts: ‘Freshness by the Sea’, ‘Warmth on the Streets’, and ‘Taste of Home’.”

He paused, tapping his fingertip on the section about "freshness by the sea": "For example, the seafood market in Chiba, where fishermen go out to sea at dawn and sushi chefs go to select fish before daybreak. These scenes have a down-to-earth feel and reflect the tradition of living off the sea in the Kanto region; the steamed bun shop in Yokohama's Toa Street, where the owner is a third-generation successor, from her grandfather pushing a cart to sell steamed buns to now running a shop, this is 'warmth on the street'; the farmhouse soba noodles in Gunma, where the old lady gives noodles to her neighbors every autumn after the harvest, this is 'the taste of home'—the core is 'people,' food is just a vehicle, the stories of people are the soul."

The words had barely left his mouth when the conference room door was pushed open. Suzuki Kiyoto walked in carrying a tea tray. He had just placed the teacup on the table when his gaze was drawn to the drawing, and he almost tilted the teapot in his hand: "Hiroshi-kun, did you draw this?"

He strode over, picked up the sketch, and stopped his finger on the storyboard of "Yokohama Baozi Shop"—it even clearly marked the number of compartments in the steamer, and even noted that "when the first batch of baozi comes out of the steamer, the steam should be thick, and the action of the customer reaching out to take the baozi should be filmed."

Kiyoto Suzuki was increasingly surprised as he looked at the drawing. When he looked up, his glasses had slipped down to the tip of his nose: "This is not a simple sketch. You even marked the lighting angles! When I was filming 'Kanto Scenery,' I had a professional storyboard artist draw the drafts, and they weren't this detailed."

Matsui Yuichi also joined in. He knew more about cameras than Suzuki Kiyoto. Pointing to the storyboard of the "Chiba Seafood Market," he said, "Look at this set of shots. From the fishermen hauling in their nets to the sushi chefs slicing the sushi, it's a tracking shot, right? They even drew the camera's movement trajectory. Hiroshi, your storyboard is more professional than the finished product of our station's veteran cameramen!"

Asumi, who had been sitting nearby flipping through the ledgers, came over when he heard their conversation. He picked up another sketch, a close-up of a Kamakura seafood bowl: sashimi on rice, chopsticks holding a piece of salmon, with a note next to it saying, "Close-up of the sashimi's sheen, the chopsticks should move slowly to emphasize freshness." Asumi couldn't help but laugh: "You even thought of this kind of detail? When filming 'Midnight Diner,' you had the actors practice the action of picking up an egg ten times. So you started scrutinizing details from the storyboard." Hiroshi scratched the back of his head, his tone a little embarrassed: "Actually, I'm not as familiar with the local cuisine of the Kanto region as you guys. For example, Matsui-san knows which seafood bowl in Kamakura is the oldest, and Suzuki-san knows which steamed bun shop in Yokohama is a traditional establishment. I'll have to rely on your help with that. What I can do is clarify the visual language, and together we'll find those traditional shops and craftsmen, and film their stories."

“It’s good that there’s a tradition!” Matsui Yuichi immediately chimed in, his voice brimming with excitement. “Let me tell you, there’s a place in Kamakura called ‘Sato Seafood Restaurant.’ The owner, Sato-san, is sixty years old this year. He’s been going out to sea with his father since he was fifteen, and he still goes out at three in the morning every day to catch only seasonal fish, saying, ‘If it’s not seasonal fish, it doesn’t have that freshness.’ His son used to be an office worker in Tokyo, but he quit his job last year to come back and help him, saying he wants to pass on this craft—isn’t that the story of the ‘people’ you were talking about?”

Kiyoto Suzuki nodded in agreement: "The same goes for 'Li's Steamed Bun Shop' in Yokohama's East Asia Street! The owner, Ms. Li, is a third-generation owner. Her grandfather came to Japan from Southeast Asia and sold steamed buns from a cart. The cart from back then is still hanging in front of the shop. Every morning at six o'clock, the first basket of steamed buns is always reserved for the old lady next door. She says, 'The old lady watched me grow up, so she has to eat first'—this story would definitely be heartwarming if it were made into a film!"

(The Chinese elements are blurred, but there are really too many Chinese elements in Japan, so please don't take it too seriously.)

Hiroshi listened attentively, occasionally jotting down a few words in his notebook: "That's exactly the kind of story we want. We don't need to find famous shops, just those with a long history and a human touch. For example, when filming 'Li's Steamed Bun Shop,' we should start filming from when Li Sang kneads the dough at three in the morning, filming how she prepares the filling, how she remembers the tastes of her regular customers, and filming the smile on the face of the old lady when she comes to pick up her buns—these details are more touching than anything else."

Matsui Yuichi became more and more excited as he listened. He picked up the sketch and looked at it again, and couldn't help but exclaim, "Hiroshi-kun, I've been making films for thirty years and I've never seen a young man who understands the camera so well! Your storyboard even has a note on the strength of Li-san's wrist when he's kneading dough: 'Shoot a close-up to show the strength of the old craftsmanship.' Just shoot it like this, no need to change it, it'll definitely turn out great!"

Hiroshi smiled and agreed, but in his heart he was thinking about "A Bite of China" from his previous life—weren't those memorable scenes precisely these details full of life? He shamelessly accepted the praise: "Actually, it was based on some previous ideas. The key is to 'follow the people,' not to film food for the sake of filming food. For example, when filming Sato-san's seafood restaurant, you can't just film how fresh the sashimi is, you have to film how he struggles with the waves when he goes out to sea, how he selects fish, how he chats with regular customers—these things are more powerful than the food itself."

"well said!"

Asuka couldn't help but clap her hands, her tone full of admiration, "No wonder you were able to make 'Midnight Diner'! That kind of delicate observation is your talent! When you made 'Super Transformation,' you captured the interaction between people; when you made 'Seven Samurai,' you captured the struggle of human nature; and this time with 'A Bite of China,' you captured the warmth of inheritance—you can always find the core of things, and that's what makes you different from others."

Matsui Yuichi nodded in agreement, his tone filled with admiration: "That's right! Back when I was filming 'Kanto Folklore,' I was always thinking about filming the scenery and customs, but I forgot about filming the people. Now, looking at your storyboard, I finally understand—a landscape without people, no matter how beautiful, has no soul; food without people, no matter how fragrant, has no flavor. Hiroshi-kun, you're truly born for this!"

Hiroshi was a little embarrassed by the praise and changed the subject, saying, "Matsui-san, actually there's something else I'd like to ask you. We're going to film 'A Bite of China,' and we need to assemble a dedicated team, such as cameramen, directors, and sound recordists. We'll need your help with all of that—after all, you know the people at Kanto TV best and know who's suitable."

Matsui Yuichi immediately patted his chest and said, “Don’t worry, Hiroshi! I’ve already made a list with Yamada-san! Veteran cinematographer Sato-san, who used to shoot ‘Kanto Folklore,’ knows the Kanto sea and the Kanto streets, and the scenery he shoots has flavor; young director Honda Sakurako-chan, the one who kept nagging me to shoot the old streets, she’s a Kanto native and knows all about Kanto cuisine, she even knows which soba noodles are handmade; and sound engineer Kobayashi-san, who used to shoot folk films with me, can record the sound of the wind by the sea and the steaming of buns in the steamer very clearly—these people are all capable!”

He paused and added:
"I also spoke with Saito-san in the technical department and asked him to bring out the best HD camera. Although it's been used for five years, the image quality is still good. It can capture the oily sheen of sashimi and the wrinkles of steamed buns without any problems. If that's not enough, I'll talk to Managing Director Asumi and ask him to bring over two more from TV Tokyo!"

Seeing Matsui Yuichi's excited expression, Hiroshi breathed a sigh of relief: "With Matsui-san's help, I'm relieved. Then please go and talk to them now to finalize the team, and we'll start scouting locations tomorrow—first to Sato-san's seafood restaurant, then to Li's steamed bun shop, and try to start filming next week."

"Okay! I'll go right now!" Matsui Yuichi, carrying the sketches, walked much faster than usual. As he reached the door, he turned back to remind him, "Hiroshi-kun, wait for me, I promise I'll have everyone gathered within half an hour!"

As Matsui Yuichi's figure disappeared through the door, the atmosphere in the conference room became more relaxed.

Asumi picked up his teacup and took a sip. Suddenly remembering something, he smiled wryly and said, "By the way, Hiroshi-kun, I need to check how the inventory check is going. Last time, the Kanto TV reported a list of equipment that said there were five cameras available, but only two of them could actually be turned on. I hope they don't do it again this time—I hope they don't give me a 'big surprise'."

Suzuki Seito also smiled wryly, putting down the teapot in his hand: "Don't get your hopes up. Last time I reconciled the accounts with the finance department, I found that they marked 'Asakusa-ya's advertising payment' as 'received,' but the Asakusa-ya boss said that it hadn't been paid yet, saying that it would be paid when we have a new program—this account probably has a lot of problems hidden."

Asumi sighed: "We still have to go see. Come on, Hiroshi-kun, you come with me too, and we can also find out about the financial situation of Kanto TV. Although the budget for 'A Bite of China' has been approved, if the accounts are a mess, it will be troublesome to allocate funds later."

Hiroshi nodded and followed the two men into the small conference room.

Just as I reached the door, I heard Hashimoto Ichiro's voice from inside, tinged with helplessness: "Kimura-san, what's going on with this personnel log? The long-term employee subsidy hasn't been paid for three months, why isn't it marked? And the equipment log says 'three high-definition cameras,' but Saito-san said that only one is actually usable. That's a huge discrepancy!"

Pushing open the door, the scene inside was worse than I had imagined.

The inspectors from TV Tokyo all frowned, their ledgers filled with red circles; Hiroshi Kimura and Ken Fujishita from TV Kanto stood nearby, their faces grim.

Hiroshi Kimura adjusted his glasses, his tone tinged with embarrassment: "Hashimoto-san, the subsidy issue is because the station is currently experiencing a cash crunch, and we were thinking of waiting for the advertising revenue to arrive before issuing the subsidies; as for the equipment, we didn't check it carefully when we submitted the application, and we thought we'd get the budget approved first..."

"This isn't 'not checking carefully'; it's just fooling around!"

Asumi walked over, picked up the equipment ledger, flipped through a couple of pages, and frowned even more. “Look at this page, ‘Ten sets of recording equipment,’ but Saito-san said that only three sets are usable. The rest are either broken and not repaired, or can’t be found. If we’re filming ‘A Bite of China,’ how are we going to record the sound of waves and kneading dough if we don’t have enough recording equipment?”

Fujishita Ken patted his beer belly, his tone tinged with grievance: "Managing Director Asumi, it's not that we're trying to fool you, it's just that the station really doesn't have any money. Last time we wanted to repair those two broken cameras, the finance department said 'no budget,' so we had to leave them as they were; as for the subsidy, I brought it up with the finance department several times, and they all said 'wait until Director Sakata approves it'—we have no choice."

Kiyoto Suzuki picked up the advertising ledger, which was marked in red pen with "Marui Soy Sauce owes 3 million yen, overdue for one month" and "Asakusa-ya owes 2 million yen, not yet received."

He sighed: "If we can't recover these advertising fees, let alone repairing equipment and issuing subsidies, even the follow-up filming of 'A Bite of China' will be in trouble."

The meeting room fell silent instantly. The Tokyo TV inspectors didn't speak, and the Kanto TV staff also lowered their heads. The atmosphere was extremely heavy.

Asumi looked at the ledger in her hand, then at Suzuki Seito. The two exchanged a glance, both seeing bitterness in each other's eyes.

Finally, Asumi turned to Hiroshi, her tone tinged with helplessness yet also with expectation: "Hiroshi-kun, you've seen it too. This is the state of Kanto TV's accounts—a complete mess. Insufficient equipment, tight budgets, uncollected advertising revenue—this 'A Bite of Japan' is all up to you. If this program becomes a hit, advertisers will definitely be willing to invest, and the equipment and subsidy issues can be resolved; if it doesn't..."

He didn't say anything more, but everyone understood what he meant.

Kiyoto Suzuki chimed in, "Hiroshi-kun, we old folks have a deep affection for Kanto TV and want to save it, but we don't have your skills. You saved the late-night slot with 'Yamishibai,' and you saved samurai films with 'Seven Samurai.' This time... we're begging you to save Kanto TV as well."

Hiroshi looked at the people in front of him—Asumi was still clutching the ledger in his hand, his knuckles white; Suzuki Seito's glasses had slipped down to the tip of his nose, but he didn't bother to push them up; Kimura Hiroshi and Fujishita Ken had their heads down, like children who had done something wrong; Saito Shigeru stood in the corner, his pager beeping, but he didn't answer it, he just looked at him.

He took a deep breath, walked over, picked up the equipment ledger, turned to the page for "Available Equipment," and gently crossed out "three high-definition cameras" and changed it to "one (two need to be transferred from Tokyo TV)." He then wrote next to it, "Recording equipment: three from Kanto TV + two from Tokyo TV."

Then, he raised his head, his eyes still steady, but his tone was powerful: "Regarding the equipment, I've spoken to Managing Director Asumi, and we'll have two high-definition cameras and two recording devices transferred from TV Tokyo. They should arrive tomorrow. As for the advertising fees, Fujishita-san, you should talk to 'Sato Seafood House' and 'Li's Steamed Bun Shop' about advertising for them in the show and getting them to pay a portion of the advance payment to ease their financial pressure. As for the subsidies, after the first episode of 'A Bite of China' airs, I'll apply to Director Sakata to pay the subsidies for the long-term employees first."

He paused, then looked at everyone: "As for whether 'A Bite of China' will be a hit, I can't guarantee it, but I will do my best. Just like Matsui-san said, we are filming the heritage of Kanto and the human touch of Kanto—as long as we film with our hearts, the audience will definitely feel it."

Looking at Hiroshi's composed demeanor, Asumi suddenly felt a sense of relief. He recalled the first time he met Hiroshi, when this young man was just a newcomer to the station, yet he dared to challenge the station and want to film "Yamishibai"; now, he was able to shoulder the banner of reform for Kanto TV and remain calm in the face of a mess—this growth was more admirable than any achievement.

He patted Hiroshi on the shoulder: "Okay! We'll do it your way! I'll call TV Tokyo right now and have them transfer the equipment over; Fujishita-san, you go and talk to those old shops about advance payments; Kimura-san, you compile the list of subsidies for long-term employees and wait for Hiroshi-kun to apply to Director Sakata; Saito-san, you coordinate with the people at TV Tokyo tomorrow to ensure the equipment is working properly."

"Hey!" the crowd responded in unison, their previous heaviness dissipating considerably, and their eyes regaining their light.

Fujishita Ken immediately picked up the landline on the table and started calling "Sato Seafood Restaurant," his voice filled with excitement: "Sato-san! This is Fujishita! I have some good news for you. Our Kanto TV station is making a documentary, specifically about your seafood restaurant, and it'll even help promote you..."

Hiroya Kimura took out his notebook and began organizing the subsidy list, his fingers flying across the page: "Veteran cameraman Sato-san, sound engineer Kobayashi-san, director Honda-chan..."

Shigeru Saito also took out his pager and sent a message to the technical department: "Prepare to connect to TV Tokyo's equipment tomorrow, and check the lines in advance."

Looking at the scene before him, Suzuki Kiyoto couldn't help but smile. He walked over to Hiroshi and whispered, "Hiroshi-kun, thank you. Without you, I really don't know what we in Kanto would do."

Hiroshi smiled and shook his head: "Suzuki-san, no need to thank me. I just did what I was supposed to do. Besides, this is not just my business, it is everyone's business - Matsui-san assembled the team, Asumi managed to coordinate the equipment, Fujishita-san discussed the advertising, and everyone worked together to make a good film of 'A Bite of China' and to save Kanto TV."

Just then, the door to the small conference room was pushed open. Matsui Yuichi rushed in excitedly, holding a list in his hand: "Hiroshi-kun! The team is finalized! Veteran cameraman Sato-san, director Honda-chan, sound engineer Kobayashi-san, and three assistants are all willing to come! Honda-chan heard that we were going to film food, so she specially brought over some oden made by her mother, saying that we should try it and get a feel for it!"

A group of people followed behind him, including a young girl carrying a thermos, her face beaming with excitement—it was Honda Sakurako, who had previously been joking with Matsui Yuichi about wanting to film the old street. Upon seeing Hiroshi, she immediately bowed: "Nohara-san! I'm Honda Sakurako! I especially love your 'Midnight Diner,' and I'll definitely learn a lot from you this time filming 'A Bite of China'!"

Hiroshi smiled and nodded: "Honda-chan, you're welcome. Let's work together. What's in your thermos? It smells delicious."

Sakurako Honda immediately opened the thermos, which contained steaming hot oden: "My mom made it! It has radish, seaweed, and fish balls, all the old-fashioned flavors of Kanto. Please try it!"

Matsui Yuichi picked up a string of radishes, took a bite, and squinted his eyes in satisfaction: "Mmm! This is the taste! Hiroshi-kun, you should try some too. This is the taste of Kanto. If we're going to make a 'A Bite of China' documentary, we should film this kind of taste!"

Hiroshi picked up a string of seaweed, took a bite, and found it to be indeed fresh—it had the fragrance of seaweed and a hint of his mother's cooking.

He suddenly remembered the plum rice balls that Misae had made for him that morning, and his heart warmed.

Looking at the bustling scene before him—Fujishita Ken was still on the phone with the old shop, Kimura Hiroshi was organizing the list, Saito-san was checking the equipment list, Matsui Yuichi and Honda Sakurako were distributing oden to everyone, and Asumi was coordinating equipment with TV Tokyo—he suddenly felt that this mess wasn't so hard to clean up after all.

Just like this oden, the radish needs to be cooked slowly to absorb the flavor, and the kelp needs to be soaked thoroughly to be fresh—the reform of the Kanto region also needs time, patience, and the joint efforts of everyone.

Sunlight streamed through the window, falling on everyone, as well as on the ledgers and drawings on the table.

Those red circles and annotations that used to be a headache now seem like minor hiccups on the road to progress.

Hiroshi picked up the sketch of "Neon Flavors on the Tip of the Tongue," and looking at the fishermen, the steamed bun shop owner, and the old farm lady in the picture, he couldn't help but smile.

He knew that the road ahead was long and fraught with difficulties, but as long as they walked together, they would surely reach the end.

After all, they are filming the heritage of Kanto, the human relationships in Kanto, and the warmth hidden in the food.

These things will never go out of style.

In my previous life, why did "A Bite of China" become an instant hit across the country and even garner astonishing attention overseas?

The reason is here.

warmth.

Favor.

And the most down-to-earth kind of craving for delicious food!

PS: I'll shamelessly ask for some recommendation votes or something.

(End of this chapter)