I, Hiroshi Nohara, the star of Japanese cinema

Chapter 244 Everyone's watching! Everyone's paying attention! Everyone's waiting!

The day after the first episode of "Neon Flavors" was completed, Hiroshi Nohara led his team to Gunma Prefecture. The theme of the second episode was "Warmth on the Streets," and the filming took place at a soba noodle shop that had been open for thirty years on an old street.

As soon as the car entered Gunma Prefecture, Yuichi Matsui couldn't help but flip through the shooting list, his tone tinged with excitement: "Hiroshi-kun, are you sure you don't want to double-check with the noodle shop owner beforehand? Last time we were shooting Nomizu-san in Chiba, scouting locations in advance saved a lot of trouble. This time we only made a phone call, are we sure we haven't missed any details?"

Hiroshi was looking down at the storyboard when he heard this. He looked up and smiled. "Don't worry, Matsui-san. Yesterday, I had Honda-chan talk to the boss for half an hour. He even wrote down his habit of grinding buckwheat flour at four in the morning. This time, we'll focus on filming 'heritage'—the boss's argument with his son, the habits of regular customers. These are more important than simply filming the noodle-cooking process."

Sitting in the passenger seat, Honda Sakurako immediately pulled out her notebook and pointed to a page: "Matsui-san, look, I've written it all down. The owner's name is Sato Kosuke, he's fifty-eight years old, and his son, Sato Kenta, is twenty-five. They want to turn the soba noodle shop into a Western-style coffee shop, and the father and son have been arguing about it for almost half a year. There are also regular customers, like Grandma Tanaka who lives next door. She comes every afternoon at three o'clock to eat a bowl of tempura soba noodles and brings her own pickled vegetables."

Shigeru Saito, sitting in the back row with a camera in his hand, suddenly spoke up: "The old town in Gunma is darker than in Chiba. After 4 pm, the trees will block the light, so we need to prepare supplementary lighting in advance. Also, the steam from cooking soba noodles can easily cause the lens to fog up. I brought anti-fog spray, so we'll have to wipe the lens every ten minutes of filming."

Hiroshi nodded: "Saito-san is very thoughtful. When we get to the noodle shop, we'll first take a close-up of Saito-san grinding buckwheat flour, using side lighting to highlight the texture of the flour, and then take a picture of the calluses on his hands—unlike Nomizu-san's hands, his hands are rougher because he kneads dough all year round, and there are calluses on the back of his hands."

When the car stopped at the entrance of the old street, it was exactly 10 a.m. Sato Kosuke's soba noodle shop was in the middle of the old street, with the words "Sato-ya" engraved on the wooden signboard, and two pots of hydrangeas with dew still clinging to their petals placed at the entrance.

Upon seeing Hiroshi and his group, Kosuke Sato immediately came out to greet them, holding a rag covered in flour: "Nohara-kun? I heard from Honda-chan that you were coming today, so I specially cleaned the grinder beforehand."

"Thank you for your trouble, Sato-san." Hiroshi bowed, his gaze falling on the flour mill in the room—an old machine from the Showa era, its brass parts gleaming. "We'd like to film you grinding buckwheat flour first. Is now a convenient time for you?"

"Convenient! Convenient!" Sato Kosuke nodded quickly, turned around and walked into the house. "I grind the powder for today at this time every day. You can take pictures as you like, don't worry about me."

Shigeru Saito immediately set up the camera, while Yuichi Matsui adjusted the fill light beside him.

Kosuke Sato sat in front of the mill, gripping the wooden handle with both hands and slowly turning it. Buckwheat grains fell from the funnel, turning into fine powder that fell into the bamboo sieve, the rustling sound particularly clear.

Hiroshi stood beside him and said to Yuichi Matsui, “Close-up of his shoulder, the rise and fall of the muscles as he turns the wooden handle—the marks of thirty years of dedication are more convincing than any explanation.”

Matsui Yuichi immediately adjusted the camera. In the shot, Sato Kosuke's shoulders rose and fell slightly as the wooden handle turned, and the veins on his neck, exposed by his collar, bulged from the effort.

Honda Sakurako squatted down beside him and asked in a low voice, "Sato-san, do you have any special tips when you grind the powder?"

Kosuke Sato replied with a smile, "There are many intricacies! The buckwheat grains must be sun-dried for three hours first, and the milling speed cannot be too fast, otherwise the flour will heat up and affect the taste—that's how my father taught me, and it hasn't changed in decades."

Just then, a young man wearing jeans walked in, holding a coffee shop design drawing in his hand. It was Kenta Sato.

Upon seeing the camera, he paused for a moment, his tone tinged with impatience: "Dad, how many times have I told you, stop with this useless filming and hurry up and sign the shop transfer contract. The investors are waiting."

Kosuke Sato's face immediately darkened, and he stopped holding the wooden handle in his hand: "I won't sign! This shop was passed down from my father. You want to turn it into a coffee shop? You'll only do that if I'm dead!"

The atmosphere instantly froze, but Hiroshi's eyes lit up, and he said to Matsui Yuichi, "Don't stop, keep filming! Capture their expressions, especially Sato-san's eyes—there's anger, and there's also grievance."

Matsui Yuichi immediately pointed the camera at the two of them; Sato Kosuke's lips were pursed into a line, and his eyes were a little red.

Kenta Sato frowned, his hand gripping the design drawing so tightly it became crumpled.

Taking the opportunity, Sakurako Honda asked, "Kenta-san, why do you want to turn the shop into a coffee shop?"

"why?"

Kenta Satoh sneered, "Who still eats those old-fashioned soba noodles these days? Young people love going to coffee shops; it's trendy and makes money. My classmate's coffee shop makes more in a month than my dad's shabby shop does in a year!"

Kosuke Sato stood up abruptly, his voice trembling: "A run-down shop? This shop has supported three generations of our family! When you were a child, you were sick and couldn't afford to see a doctor, and it was this shop that earned you the money—and now you're calling it a run-down shop?"

Kenta Sato's expression changed, but he still stubbornly insisted, "That's all ancient history! Times have changed, Dad, don't always live in the past!" After saying that, he slammed the design on the table and turned to leave.

Watching his retreating figure, Kosuke Sato sighed, sat down again, and slowly turned the grinder.

Hiroshi walked over and handed him a glass of water: "Sato-san, don't take it to heart. Kenta-san also wants to make life better for his family, just in a different way."

Kosuke Sato took the water glass and gave a wry smile: "I know. But this shop is my life. If I change it, I'll be letting my father down."

Hiroshi patted him on the shoulder: "When we film today, we'll capture your perseverance. Maybe when Kenta-san sees the footage, he'll understand your feelings."

The subsequent filming went smoothly.

Around lunchtime, regular customers started arriving at the shop, and Granny Tanaka appeared right on time, carrying a small bamboo basket filled with pickled radishes: "Kosuke-kun, please make sure the soba noodles are a little softer today, as my teeth aren't very good."

Kosuke Sato immediately smiled and agreed, "Understood, Granny Tanaka, it'll be ready soon."

When he cooks noodles, he is exceptionally skilled. After putting the buckwheat noodles into the pot, he gently stirs them with chopsticks. When they are 80% cooked, he takes them out, rinses them with cold water, and then pours on the special sauce.

Yuichi Matsui's camera followed his hands the whole time, filming every movement from cooking noodles to pouring sauce.

Hiroshi reminded him from the side: "When filming Grandma Tanaka eating noodles, her eyes will light up when she takes her first bite—you must capture this detail."

Sure enough, Granny Tanaka picked up a mouthful of noodles, put it in her mouth, and her eyes lit up instantly: "Kosuke-kun's noodles are still the best. They're much more authentic than the soba noodles my daughter eats in Tokyo."

Filming continued until evening, and when it was time to wrap up, Kosuke Sato insisted that everyone stay for soba noodles.

Looking at the noodles in the bowl, Hiroshi suddenly said, "Sato-san, tomorrow we'd like to film you and Kenta-san talking about your father's shop back then—maybe that can resolve the issues between you two."

Kosuke Sato paused for a moment, then nodded: "Okay, I'll try talking to him."

The next morning, Kenta Sato indeed arrived. Although his expression was still unpleasant, he didn't lose his temper like he had the day before.

When Kosuke Sato recounted how his father braved a typhoon to buy goods and returned soaked to the bone, but had managed to protect the buckwheat flour perfectly, Kenta Sato's eyes slowly welled up with tears.

Hiroshi took the opportunity to have Matsui Yuichi film this scene. In the shot, the distance between the father and son gradually closed, and the previous estrangement seemed to have faded a bit.

After filming the second episode, the team rushed to Saitama Prefecture. The third episode, "The Taste of Home," was filmed about an ordinary family's New Year's Eve dinner. The chosen family was the Takahashi family, who live in Saitama Prefecture. The hostess, Keiko Takahashi, cooks different home-style dishes every day. Her husband is an office worker, and her son is in high school.

On the day of the shoot, Keiko Takahashi was busy in the kitchen early in the morning, frying tempura, cooking oden, and steaming salmon, filling the kitchen with delicious aromas.

Hiroshi asked Matsui Yuichi to film a close-up of her chopping vegetables. Takahashi Keiko was very skillful; the carrots were cut into small flower shapes, and the potatoes were cut into even thin slices.

"Keiko-san, why do you cook so many dishes every day?" Honda Sakurako asked curiously.

Keiko Takahashi said with a smile, "My husband works hard and my son is tired from studying. If I cook more dishes, they will be happy to eat, and I will be happy too. My mother-in-law used to do the same thing, waiting for us to come home for dinner every day. Now that she is gone, I continue to cook."

In the evening, Takahashi's husband and son returned home.

As soon as her son, Kenichi Takahashi, put down his schoolbag, he approached the kitchen doorway and asked, "Mom, is there tempura today? My classmate said he wants to eat your tempura."

Keiko Takahashi smiled and nodded: "Yes, they're freshly fried. Go wash your hands and eat."

The family sat at the dining table, the light warm and inviting. Kenichi Takahashi picked up a piece of tempura and handed it to his father: "Dad, try this. Mom's tempura is especially crispy today." His father took it, put it in his mouth, and nodded: "Mmm, your mom's is still the best. It's even better than what you get at restaurants."

Hiroshi asked Matsui Yuichi to take this picture from the side, and the light fell on the three of them, creating a warm scene.

Shigeru Saito deliberately darkened the background to focus on the food on the table and the interaction between the three people.

After finishing work, Yuichi Matsui flipped through the materials and couldn't help but exclaim, "Hiroshi-kun, the three themes you chose are excellent! The freshness of the seaside, the warmth of the streets, and the taste of home perfectly cover the food and human touch of Japan. Especially the Takahashi family's New Year's Eve dinner, it made me miss home."

Hiroshi smiled and nodded: "That's the effect I wanted. Food is just a vehicle; human connection is the core. If viewers can think of the people around them and the familiar flavors they used to eat while watching the film, then the film will be a success."

While Hiroshi Nohara's team was busy filming the second and third episodes, TV Tokyo's pre-release promotional campaign was in full swing.

The entertainment section of the Asahi Shimbun devoted half a page to reporting on "A Taste of Japan," with the headline "Hiroshi Nohara's New Masterpiece! Telling the Story of Japanese Humanity Through Food," and also included a photo of Masayasu Nomizu taking the bait.

TV Tokyo's prime-time program "Tokyo Tonight Show" also dedicated a special episode to promoting the series. The host, holding up a trailer for "A Taste of Japan," told viewers, "Do you remember the heartwarming oden from 'Midnight Diner'? This time, director Hiroshi Nohara takes us to Chiba's seafood market, Gunma's old streets, and ordinary families in Saitama, capturing the most authentic Japanese food and human warmth through his lens. Tune in to Kanto TV next Saturday at 8 PM—don't miss it!"

Tadashi Hattori also coordinated advertising space in the Tokyo Metro, posting posters for "A Bite of Japan" on light boxes in bustling subway stations such as Ginza and Shinjuku. The posters featured Masayoshi Nomizu's hand, Kosuke Sato's grinder, and the Takahashi family's dining table lined up, with the words "10 PM on October 15th, savor the warmth of Japan" written below.

The Kanto TV station wasn't idle either; it aired a 30-second preview clip every day in its local news program.

Ken Fujishita also contacted local television stations in Chiba, Gunma, and Saitama prefectures, asking them to help broadcast the trailers. In exchange, TV Tokyo would include promotional information about the three prefectures' culture and tourism in "A Bite of Japan".

For a time, the entire Kanto region was covered by the promotion of "A Bite of Japan".

In an office building in Shinjuku, Tokyo, office workers were discussing this documentary during their lunch break.

"Have you seen the Asahi Shimbun? Hiroshi Nohara has released a new work, this time a food documentary!" Ichiro Yamada, who works at a trading company, said to his colleagues while holding the newspaper.

Kenta Sato, who was standing next to him, looked up and his eyes lit up: "Hiroshi Nohara? Is that the director who made 'Seven Samurai' and 'Midnight Diner'? His documentaries must be great! I used to watch 'Midnight Diner' and I was always moved to tears by the stories in it."

Another colleague, Hanako Suzuki, nodded in agreement: "My mom told me yesterday that the oden in 'Midnight Diner' looks exactly like the ones she used to make when she was young. Now that Director Nohara is making a food documentary, I definitely want my mom to watch it too. Maybe she'll see the familiar old flavors she knows."

In a classroom at the University of Tokyo, during a break, students were also talking about "A Bite of Japan".

"I heard that Hiroshi Nohara is auctioning tuna in Chiba this time. I've never seen a tuna auction before. I definitely have to watch it!" said Watanabe Toru, a third-year university student, excitedly.

His classmate Keiko Yamaguchi said with a smile, "I'm more looking forward to the soba noodle shops in Gunma. My grandmother's house is in Gunma, and every time I go there I have to eat soba noodles in the old town. I wonder if Director Nohara is filming the same one."

Kenichi Tanaka, standing next to him, adjusted his glasses: "Director Nohara's works never disappoint. 'Yamishibai' made urban legends so scary, and 'Super Transformation' made everyone want to interact. This documentary will definitely have a different kind of surprise."

In the Tokyo subway, passengers couldn't help but discuss the posters on the light boxes.

“This poster is really well taken. Look at these hands; they tell a story.” A middle-aged man pointed to the hands of Masayoshi Nomizu in the poster and said to his wife.

His wife nodded: "Director Hiroshi Nohara's films are all very heartwarming. Last time we watched 'Midnight Diner,' you even said it reminded you of your mom's miso soup. Let's not forget to watch it next Saturday at 8 pm."

In a ramen shop, the owner is holding a newspaper and chatting with customers about "A Bite of Japan".

"Let me tell you, any documentary directed by Hiroshi Nohara is bound to be good!" the owner said while cooking ramen. "I watched 'Seven Samurai' three times in the theater before, and the battle in the rice paddies was so breathtaking. This time, when he makes a food documentary, I'm sure he'll capture a different feeling."

A regular customer said with a smile, "Boss, how about we come to your shop sometime and watch ramen while we eat? Your TV can receive Kanto TV."

The boss immediately agreed: "Great! I'll prepare some extra side dishes, and we'll watch it together!"

Besides the Kanto region, television stations in other prefectures and cities also received news about "A Bite of Japan".

At a production department meeting at Yomiuri TV in Osaka, the department head, holding promotional materials sent by TV Tokyo, said to his subordinates, "Take a look, everyone. Hiroshi Nohara is going to make a food documentary. This guy is something else; whatever he films becomes a hit. We need to keep a close eye on him and see what new tricks he can come up with this time."

The subordinates were passing around the materials when a young director said, "Minister, should we make a similar program? Osaka has a lot of delicious food, such as okonomiyaki and takoyaki. If we film it well, it might become a hit."

The minister shook his head: "Don't rush. Let's wait until Hiroshi Nohara's film airs and see the audience's reaction. His filming style is very unique, we need to study it thoroughly before we start making our own."

In a conference room at Chubu Nippon Broadcasting in Nagoya, the directors were also discussing "A Bite of Japan".

"Hiroshi Nohara actually dared to make a documentary, especially a food documentary! He's incredibly bold!" one director said. "The food documentaries that NHK made before didn't get good ratings. Isn't he afraid of ruining his reputation?"

Another director retorted, "What do you know? Hiroshi Nohara's specialty is making a hit with topics that nobody expected to be good. Take 'Yamishibai' for example, who thought it would be a good anime in the early morning? It broke 12% in ratings. This documentary might just create a miracle too." The station manager tapped the table: "Alright, stop arguing. Starting next week, closely monitor the ratings and reviews of 'Neon Flavors.' If it's well-received, we'll contact TV Tokyo to see if we can acquire the broadcasting rights, or collaborate with them to film a Nagoya food special."

In Sapporo, the directors and producers of Hokkaido Broadcasting were also paying attention to "A Bite of Japan".

One director said, "Hiroshi Nohara films the food of the Kanto region, but our Hokkaido seafood is also very famous. If his film becomes popular, we can also make a Hokkaido food documentary, which might boost the local tourism industry."

Another director nodded: "I heard that Hiroshi Nohara also designed mascots for Kumamon and Akita dogs, which boosted local tourism revenue. If our documentary can be combined with tourism, it will definitely get government support."

For a time, all the television stations in Japan were focused on "A Bite of Japan." Everyone wanted to see if this young director, who had created countless miracles, could break records once again and take niche documentaries to new heights.

Meanwhile, at Tokyo TV, Kazuo Takahashi was looking at the report sent by the city's intelligence department, his face growing increasingly grim.

The report stated: "The pre-release hype for 'A Bite of Japan' has been remarkable, with a 78% anticipation rate among viewers in the Kanto region. Marui Soy Sauce has decided to become the exclusive sponsor, with a sponsorship amount of 20 million yen."

He slammed the report on the table and yelled at Jun Yamada and Takashi Sato, "Look at this! Hiroshi Nohara's documentary hasn't even aired yet, and he's already secured 20 million yen in sponsorship! Our 'Exploring the Tokyo Area' has been hyped up for so long, and we've only managed to get 30 million yen, and those are all from small advertisers! What are you doing?"

Jun Yamada and Takashi Sato lowered their heads, not daring to speak.

Kazuo Takahashi took a deep breath, his tone softening slightly: "Now is not the time to lose your temper. You need to immediately adjust the publicity plan, bring forward Shunsuke Kamiki's fan meeting, and contact several fashion magazines to shoot more interviews with him—you must get the audience's attention back before 'A Bite of Japan' airs!"

"Yes!" Jun Yamada and Takashi Sato quickly replied and turned to leave.

Watching their retreating figures, Kazuo Takahashi picked up the promotional poster for "A Bite of Japan" from the table, his eyes filled with apprehension.

He knew that the competition for this prime-time slot was even fiercer than he had imagined. And Hiroshi Nohara, the 23-year-old director, had become his biggest threat.

Meanwhile, Hiroshi Nohara's team had just finished filming the third episode and were preparing to return to Tokyo.

As the car drove along the highway, Honda Sakurako looked at the night view outside the window and suddenly said, "Hiroshi-kun, do you think that after our film is broadcast, it will really boost the local tourism industry like Hattori-san said?"

Hiroshi smiled and nodded: "Definitely. Look at Nomizu-san's fish shop, now diners from Tokyo are driving all the way to Chiba just to eat sashimi. After the show airs, the old streets of Gunma and ordinary families in Saitama might become tourist hotspots."

Yuichi Matsui added, "If that really happens, we've done a good thing. We've made a good film and helped the local people—it's much more meaningful than those variety shows that only care about ratings."

Shigeru Saito sat in the back row, a rare smile appearing on his lips. Looking at the streetlights rushing past the window, he suddenly realized that filming with Hiroshi Nohara was far more interesting than shooting those tedious local news reports for the Kanto TV station.

The car continued driving towards Tokyo. The night view outside the window grew brighter and brighter, like the future depicted in "A Bite of Neon," full of hope.

Hiroshi looked down at the storyboard in his hand, which depicted the content of the fourth episode—a film about a long-established confectionery shop in Kyoto.

The story of this documentary has only just begun.

What he has to do is present these heartwarming stories to the audience one by one, so that more people can feel the warmth of Japan.

……

The air in the conference room of Tokyo TV was heavy, as if it were filled with lead.

Kazuo Takahashi slammed the Asahi Shimbun on the table, the creases at the edges turning white from the impact. He glared at Jun Yamada and Takashi Sato across from him, his voice laced with barely suppressed anger: "Look at this! Hiroshi Nohara's documentary hasn't even aired yet, and subway light boxes and newspaper pages are covered in his advertisements! And look at our 'Tokyo Surroundings Exploration,' apart from discussions in Shunsuke Kamiki's fan group, who cares about it among the average viewer?"

Jun Yamada tightened his grip on the pen and whispered, "Vice Director Takahashi, we've contacted three fashion magazines, and we'll be publishing an interview with Shunsuke Kamiki next week. We're also planning a fan signing event at Senso-ji Temple—"

"Not enough!" Kazuo Takahashi interrupted him, his fingers tapping loudly on the table. "Hiroshi Nohara has scheduled it for prime time on October 15th, so let's change it too! Move Shunsuke Kamiki's show, 'Shunsuke's Tokyo Adventure,' to the next slot, so it'll clash with 'A Bite of Japan' on the same day and at the same time!"

Sato Takashi paused for a moment, then quickly said, "But Deputy Director, 'Shunsuke's Tokyo Wanderings' was originally scheduled to premiere in November, and the footage hasn't been edited yet. Wouldn't it be too rushed to change the time now?"

"We have to get there, no matter what!" Kazuo Takahashi stood up, walked to the window and looked at the Tokyo Tower outside. His tone was filled with a desperate determination. "Mayor Tanaka entrusted the city broadcasting to me, not so that I would lose to a 23-year-old kid! Shunsuke Kamiki is an artist heavily promoted by the Kirin Group. His fan base is there. How could he not win against a documentary that nobody watches?"

He turned around, took out a proposal from the drawer, and threw it to the two of them: "This is the new plan. Let Shunsuke Kamiki film some trendy restaurants in Tokyo. He'll interact with the owner of one restaurant in each episode and then perform an impromptu song—young people love this kind of thing! Tell Shunsuke Kamiki that if he can beat Hiroshi Nohara this time, the city TV station will give him his own variety show next year!"

Jun Yamada and Takashi Sato exchanged a glance and could only nod in agreement: "Yes! We'll go and contact Kamiki-san's manager right away."

The news spread like wildfire throughout the entire Japanese film and television industry that very afternoon.

In the break room of TV Tokyo's production department, several directors were gathered around a microwave waiting for their food to heat up, and their conversation revolved entirely around this "prime-time showdown."

"Have you heard? The city TV station is going to put Shunsuke Kamiki and Hiroshi together in the same time slot!" A young director whispered, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "That's a blatant declaration of war!"

Another veteran director took a sip of tea, shook his head with a smile, and said, "Kazuo Takahashi has lost his mind. I've seen the sample footage of Shunsuke Kamiki's show. It's all staged interactions, completely different from Hiroshi's humanistic documentaries—does he think he can win just by relying on an idol's face?"

Asano Kita, who was wiping a cup, overheard this and chimed in: "When Hiroshi was filming 'A Bite of China,' he even had to calculate the rotation speed of Nomizu-san's buckwheat flour according to the angle of the light. Kamiki Shunsuke, when filming restaurants, just makes a V-sign at the camera. The audience isn't stupid."

These words quickly spread to other television stations. At a production department meeting at Osaka Yomiuri TV, the department head, holding the city station's new programming schedule, joked with his subordinates: "Tokyo City TV is really desperate. Using idol variety shows to compete with cultural documentaries—isn't that like throwing an egg against a rock?"

The subordinates all laughed. One of the directors said, "The main reason is that Hiroshi Nohara's reputation is too strong. With works like 'Seven Samurai' and 'Midnight Diner,' the audience trusts him! Besides scandals and fan support, what other notable works does Shunsuke Kamiki have?"

In the conference room of Nagoya Chubu Nippon Broadcasting, the station manager looked at the ratings forecast report in his hand and said to the directors, "Keep an eye on the ratings data for October 15th. I want to see if Hiroshi Nohara can create another miracle—if he wins, we'll contact TV Tokyo and buy the broadcasting rights for 'A Bite of Japan'."

Not only television stations, but tabloids also caught wind of the spectacle. The front page of "Tokyo Entertainment Weekly" used oversized font—"Prime Time Showdown! Hiroshi Nohara VS Shunsuke Kamiki, Find Out on October 15th," accompanied by two photos: on the left is a profile of Hiroshi Nohara looking at material at the Chiba pier, his expression focused; on the right is a photo of Shunsuke Kamiki making a V-sign at a fan meeting, his smile glaring.

The report also included an "industry insider's scoop," saying that in order to win, Kazuo Takahashi tripled the budget for Shunsuke Kamiki, and even had to airfreight the restaurant's ingredients from France—the article was full of sarcasm.

In the evening, the izakayas in Shinjuku become even more lively.

Several film critics sat around a low table with grilled saury and draft beer on it, and their conversation never strayed from the topic of the showdown.

With his graying hair, Saeki Akira picked up his glass, took a sip of beer, and said with a smile, "In my thirty years in the industry, this is the first time I've seen an idol variety show collide with a humanistic documentary—Takahashi Kazuo has completely disgraced the city's broadcasting station."

The young film critic Keisuke Yamada chimed in, "That's right! When Hiroshi Nohara was filming 'A Bite of China,' he spent three hours just talking to Mr. Nomizu about fishing techniques. When Shunsuke Kamiki was filming a restaurant, he couldn't even distinguish the types of fish and could only say 'So delicious.' How can you compare them?"

Another film critic, Kiyoshi Sato, put down his chopsticks, his tone tinged with disdain: "These days, idols can't do anything but show off their looks. Last year, there was an idol who filmed a food show and called miso soup soy sauce soup, saying, 'Anyway, it's all salty'—the kind of stuff that people make only corrupts young people. Unlike Hiroshi Nohara, who made 'Super Transformation' to encourage more interaction among neighbors and 'Midnight Diner' to remind everyone of the taste of home. That's what content creation should be like."

Saeki Akira put down his glass and tapped his fingers on the table: "I've already spoken to the film review sections of several newspapers. No matter how much the city TV station offers, I'll still give 'A Bite of China' a high score—we film critics have to have some moral integrity; we can't lose our conscience for money."

“Saeki-san is right!” Yamada Keisuke immediately nodded. “I’ve already written the first draft, focusing on the humanistic details in ‘A Bite of China,’ such as Nomizu-san’s eyes when he was pulling in the net, and Sato Kosuke’s old machine for grinding buckwheat flour—these are things that can touch people’s hearts and are much more substantial than Kamiki Shunsuke’s fake smile.”

Kiyoshi Sato added, "I plan to interview a few industry insiders who have seen the sample footage to highlight the visual language of 'A Bite of China'—Shigeru Saito's lighting adjustments can make the texture of tuna look like it's glowing. This level of professionalism is something you can't see in any TV station program."

The izakaya owner, carrying a tray, overheard their conversation and couldn't help but chime in: "Gentlemen, I also support Director Nohara! My daughter is 18 this year and usually only follows idols. After watching the trailer for 'Midnight Diner,' she actually told me, 'I want to try my grandma's oden.' This kind of show that brings families closer together is much better than those idol programs that only make young people scream like crazy!"

Saeki Akira smiled and raised his glass: "Come on, a toast to Hiroshi Nohara's 'A Bite of China'! I hope that on October 15th, more people will realize that good content is never just about looks!"

"Cheers!" Several people's glasses clinked together, making a crisp sound. Beer foam splashed on the table, which the boss then wiped away with a rag with a smile.

Meanwhile, at the Kirin Group's talent agency, Shunsuke Kamiki was practicing smiling in front of the mirror.

He was wearing the latest Armani suit, his hair was styled meticulously with hair gel, and his manager, Keisuke Yamaguchi, stood beside him, holding a new project proposal from the city TV station.

“Jun-suke, the city TV station said that if the ratings this time can surpass “A Bite of Japan”, they will give you a personal variety show next year and will also invite a top music producer to make an album for you.”

Kamiki Shunsuke raised an eyebrow at himself in the mirror, a smug smile playing on his lips: "Surpassing Nohara Hiroshi? Too easy. Who watches those old fishermen and old shops he films, except for old men and women? I'll film a trendy restaurant, sing a song, and my fans will definitely be glued to the TV—when the ratings come out, let's see if Takahashi Kazuo still dares to underestimate me."

Keisuke Yamaguchi hesitated for a moment, then said, "Shunsuke-san, Nohara-kun has a very good reputation, and 'Seven Samurai' and 'Midnight Diner' have a solid audience base. We'd better be careful—"

"What are you being careful about?" Kamiki Shunsuke turned around, his eyes filled with impatience. "He's just a guy who only knows how to make old, tired movies! I'm a key artist for the Kirin Group, even President Sato gives me some respect, so who is Hiroshi Nohara?"

He picked up the diamond-encrusted phone on the table, scrolled through his chat history with Watanabe Toru, and a sinister smile appeared on his lips: "Besides, I have a backup plan. If I'm not sure about the ratings, I'll have Watanabe Toru's side drop some 'dirt'—like Nomizu Masayoshi's fish shop not meeting hygiene standards, or Sato Kosuke's buckwheat flour being expired. Then let's see who dares to watch his documentary."

Keisuke Yamaguchi's heart tightened, but he dared not say anything more—he knew Shunsuke Kamiki's temper all too well, and if he argued back, he might get things thrown at him again.

Meanwhile, in the editing room of TV Tokyo, Hiroshi Nohara and Ichiro Hashimoto were watching the first cut of the second episode of "A Bite of Japan".

On the screen, an image of Kosuke Sato turning the mill slowly flashed by, and the rustling sound of buckwheat flour falling into the bamboo sieve could be clearly heard. Hiroshi pointed to the screen and said, "Make the background music here a little softer, highlight the sound of the mill—this is the sound of old-fashioned craftsmanship, which is more powerful than music."

Hashimoto Ichiro nodded and noted it down, then suddenly remembered something and said with a smile, "Hiroshi-kun, everyone outside is saying that the city TV station is going to have Kamiki Shunsuke compete with us for the same time slot. Aren't you worried at all?"

Hiroshi looked up, his eyes calm. He picked up his coffee and took a sip. "What's there to worry about? Audiences want good content, not the faces of celebrities. Let's make a good film and let the audience see Nomizu-san's dedication and Sato-san's perseverance. That's enough."

Honda Sakurako, who was standing next to her with her notebook, leaned over excitedly and said, "Hiroshi-kun, I just received a message from the Chiba Prefectural Government that Nomizu-san's fish shop has been getting a lot of customers from Tokyo lately, all saying they're looking forward to seeing our film! And in Gunma Prefecture's old town, a travel agency has already contacted the prefectural government, wanting to do a 'soba noodle culture tour'!"

Hiroshi smiled, a hint of warmth in his eyes: "You see, good content will naturally be recognized. Kamiki Shunsuke's variety shows may attract attention for a while, but what audiences will always remember are those heartwarming stories."

Just then, Hiroshi's phone rang; it was Hattori Tadashi calling.

He answered the phone, and Hattori Tadashi's voice came through the receiver: "Hiroshi-kun, I just finalized a deal with the Tokyo Metro. Starting October 10th, we'll be playing 30-second trailers for 'A Bite of China' in the subway cars, and we'll also be showing footage of Nomizu Mulberry harvesting her nets on the electronic screens on the platforms—we want more people to know that there's a worthwhile documentary to watch on the evening of the 15th."

"Thank you very much, Hattori-san." Hiroshi's tone was filled with gratitude. "Thank you for your help."

After hanging up the phone, Hiroshi looked at the screen showing Kosuke Sato and his son reconciling, and suddenly it became clear to him—this prime-time showdown was never a contest between him and Shunsuke Kamiki, but rather a contest between "content with heart" and "hype for viewership." And he believed that the former would always win.

On October 10th, trailers for "A Bite of Japan" were indeed displayed in the Tokyo subway.

During the morning rush hour, an office worker in a suit stared at the screen. When he saw the scene of Nomizu Masayoshi pulling in the net, he couldn't help but say to his colleague next to him, "My grandfather used to be a fisherman. Like Nomizu-san, he always said, 'The sea doesn't lie.' I have to go home and watch this movie on the night of the 15th."

The female student next to her chimed in, "My mom read the newspaper yesterday and said she wanted to see the soba noodle shops in Gunma because they look a lot like the old town where she lived when she was a child."

Meanwhile, on the city TV station, Shunsuke Kamiki's "Shunsuke's Tokyo Wanderings" has also begun to generate buzz.

At his fan meeting, he held the microphone and shouted to the fans in the audience: "At 10 pm on October 15th, I will take you to eat at the best and most popular restaurant in Tokyo, and I will also sing a new song for you - be sure to tune in on time!"

The fans in the audience screamed and held up support signs, creating a lively scene.

But in discussions among ordinary viewers, many people were saying, "Hiroshi Nohara's documentary looks interesting. I'll watch it on the night of the 15th."

October 15th is drawing ever closer, and the air throughout the Kanto region is filled with anticipation.

In TV Tokyo's production department, Yuichi Matsui had already polished the cameras until they shone, preparing to go to Nomizu-san's fish shop that day to film the audience's reaction.
Sakurako Honda organized all her interview notes, waiting to do follow-up promotion after the film aired; Shigeru Saito checked the playback equipment again and again to ensure that there would be no mistakes that night.

Hiroshi Nohara, on the other hand, still spends every day in the editing room, adjusting the rhythm of each shot in front of the screen.

Hashimoto Ichiro would occasionally ask him, "Hiroshi-kun, do you want to see the city TV station's sample footage?" He would always shake his head and say, "No need, let's just do our own thing."

Everything was moving toward 10 p.m. on October 15th.

This is Hiroshi Nohara's "A Bite of Japan," a documentary series broadcast during prime time on Kanto TV.

PS: I'll continue to shamelessly ask for votes.

(End of this chapter)