I, Hiroshi Nohara, the star of Japanese cinema

Chapter 249 A Taste of Food! Hiroshi Nohara! A Young Man Like a True Dragon!
October 22nd, Friday evening at 7:50 PM, ten minutes before the premiere of the second episode of "A Bite of Neon".

The "Satoya" soba noodle shop in Takasaki City, Gunma Prefecture, was packed with customers who had arrived early to reserve seats.

Kosuke Sato, wearing a faded navy blue apron, was busy wiping the wooden dining table. His son, Kenta Sato, sat in a chair in the corner, clutching a pager, his eyes filled with a complex emotion—three days ago, he had resigned from his real estate company in Tokyo and temporarily returned to his hometown.

"Dad, is the TV set up?" Kenta Sato asked, looking up, his voice a little unnatural.

He had argued with his father on the phone last week, saying that "selling soba noodles has no future, real estate in Tokyo is the real money-making business," but now he can only slink back home.

Kosuke Sato didn't turn around, but simply wiped the texture of the table with a rag, his tone indifferent: "It's been adjusted a long time ago. Saito-san even sent someone to check the signal yesterday. If you think it's too crowded, there are still empty seats upstairs."

Just then, a commotion came from the doorway—Yuichi Matsui walked in carrying a camera, followed by Sakurako Honda with a notebook in her hand.

"Sato-san, let's film the audience's reaction!" Matsui Yuichi waved with a smile. "Hiroshi specifically asked us to film how everyone looks while watching the film, maybe we can use it in future promotions."

Sato Kosuke then stopped what he was doing and smiled, "Please sit down, please sit down. I specially saved the best soba noodles. We'll eat them together after we finish watching the movie."

At exactly 8 p.m., the TV screen lit up on time.

After the opening theme, the scene shifts to the Gunma Mountains at dawn—a thin mist shrouds the rice paddies, and Sato Kosuke pushes an old bicycle with two bamboo baskets tied to the back seat, filled with freshly ground buckwheat flour.

The camera slowly zooms in, capturing the calluses on his hands and the copper bell hanging on his bicycle handlebars, which he's used for over twenty years.

"This shot is really detailed," exclaimed Grandpa Tanaka, a regular customer at the next table. "Look at the way Sato-san pushes his bicycle, it's exactly the same as when he was young, he hasn't changed at all."

Kenta Sato stared at the screen, a sudden tightness gripping his heart.

He recalled that when he was a child, his father would push his bicycle and take him to the mountains to pick buckwheat seeds, saying, "Buckwheat flour is only fragrant when you grind it yourself, and you are only at ease when you work hard yourself."

At that time, he was preoccupied with "going to Tokyo to make a name for himself" and didn't take his father's words to heart at all.

The scene shifts to the kitchen of a soba noodle shop, where Kosuke Sato is kneading dough. His movements are slow but powerful, his palms repeatedly pressing the dough, sweat trickling down his forehead and dripping onto the flour, spreading out in a small white patch.

The narration began slowly: "The texture of buckwheat noodles lies in the strength of kneading the dough. Kosuke Sato has been making buckwheat noodles for forty years, kneading thirty kilograms of dough every day. The muscles in his arms are more muscular than those of a young man."

"Dad, you've never said kneading dough is so tiring before," Kenta Sato said softly, his eyes welling up with tears.

When he worked as a real estate agent in Tokyo, he sat in an air-conditioned room making phone calls every day and always felt that the work was hard. Now, looking at his father's calloused hands, he suddenly realized that his previous complaints were ridiculous.

On the screen, the scene suddenly shifts to an office building in Tokyo—Kenta Sato, dressed in a sharp suit, stands in front of a glass curtain wall, introducing his exorbitantly priced apartment to a client.

“This apartment is located in the heart of Shinjuku, Tokyo. It cost 120 million yen and is expected to appreciate by at least 30% next year.” He wore a professional smile, but his eyes were somewhat vacant.

The scene then cuts to him being reprimanded by his boss—"You've only closed two deals this month. If this keeps up, you're fired!"

Kenta Sato's face flushed instantly, and he instinctively lowered his head.

He recalled the day he resigned, when his boss scolded him in front of the entire department for being "ambitious but incompetent, unable to even handle basic customer maintenance." It was then that he realized that the "glamorous life" he had pursued in Tokyo was nothing but self-deception.

"Don't be sad." Kosuke Sato handed over a cup of tea, his tone gentle. "I've said it before, you can't just look at the surface of things; you have to be down-to-earth. Look at this buckwheat noodle. If you cut corners when kneading the dough, it will break when cooked, and the taste will be far worse."

On the television, Kosuke Sato is serving soba noodles to a customer.

He scooped up the noodles with a bamboo spoon, gently placed them into the bowl, poured on his homemade sauce, and finally sprinkled on some chopped green onions, his movements fluid and graceful.

The customer picked up his chopsticks, took a slurp, and a satisfied smile appeared on his face: "Sato-san's soba noodles are still the most fragrant, even better than those in high-end restaurants in Tokyo!"

Kenta Sato, looking at the screen, suddenly stood up and said, "Dad, let me serve you the noodles."

Before Sato Kosuke could react, he picked up the tray and walked toward the guest who had just entered.

When he handed the buckwheat noodles to the customer, he heard the customer say, "Young man, you're just as honest as your dad," and a long-lost sense of peace suddenly welled up in his heart.

At the end of the film, Kosuke Sato and Kenta Sato sit together on the steps in front of the shop, holding freshly cooked soba noodles.

“You don’t necessarily have to stay in Tokyo.” Kosuke Sato looked at his son and said seriously, “You have a place in our hometown too. As long as you are willing to work hard, you can make a living selling soba noodles.”

Kenta Sato took a bite of soba noodles, and tears welled up in his eyes. "Dad, I was wrong. I was too impetuous before. I want to learn how to make soba noodles from you and run 'Sato-ya' well."

On the television screen, the setting sun shone on the father and son, and the picture gradually darkened.

The customers in the shop all had tears in their eyes. Grandpa Tanaka wiped away his tears and said, "This story is so true. It's exactly like my son. He always thinks the outside world is better, but the best is right here beside him."

Yuichi Matsui turned off the camera and said to Sakurako Honda, "You see, Hiroshi-kun was right. The most touching stories are the everyday lives of ordinary people. The reconciliation between this father and son is more moving than any script."

……

At the same time, in the top-floor office of TV Tokyo, Nobuhiko Sakata, Yoshihiro Shimazu, Toshihide Takada, and Asumi sat around a television, on which the ending segment of the second episode of "A Bite of China" was playing.

Nobuhiko Sakata held his teacup, tapping his fingers lightly on the table, his tone full of admiration: "Nohara-kun, this second episode is more profound than the first. Look at the conflict between Kenta Sato and his father, which seems to be a choice between 'staying in the countryside' and 'moving to the city,' but it is actually a silent critique of the current Japanese real estate bubble."

Yoshihiro Shimazu put down the viewership monitoring report in his hand, his eyes sharp: "You're right. How crazy is the Tokyo real estate market right now? A 60-square-meter apartment can be sold for 100 million yen. Young people are taking on decades of loans to buy a house. Young people like Kenta Sato think that they can make a lot of money by joining a real estate company, but they've forgotten the importance of being down-to-earth. Nohara-kun used a story about a soba noodle shop to expose this restless social mentality, which is more effective than ten sentences we say in a campaign speech."

Takada Toshihide adjusted his glasses and added, "What's even more ingenious is that he didn't deliberately criticize the real estate industry. Instead, he conveyed the value of 'doing things practically' through the story of the father and son's reconciliation. This kind of 'implicit expression' is more powerful than straightforward preaching. Look at what Sato Kosuke said: 'Soba noodles are only fragrant when you grind them yourself.' This statement is not only about making noodles, but also about being a person—young people today are too impatient, always thinking about taking shortcuts, but forgetting the most basic principles."

Asumi nodded in agreement: "I just received news from the Gunma Prefectural Government that the viewership rating in Takasaki City tonight has already exceeded 18%, which is 3 percentage points higher than the first episode's rating at the same time. Many viewers have called the TV station saying that after watching the show they want to go back to their hometowns, and some young people working in real estate in Tokyo have said they want to quit their jobs and go back to their hometowns to find stable work. Nohara-kun's show is quietly changing everyone's thinking."

Nobuhiko Sakata stood up, walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, and looked at the Tokyo night view below—the skyscrapers were brightly lit, but the prosperity seemed somewhat fake.

"Japan desperately needs films like this right now."

He said seriously, "The real estate bubble will burst sooner or later. When that happens, those who fantasize about getting rich overnight will only fall harder. Nohara-kun uses the story of soba noodles to tell everyone that true security does not come from sky-high property prices, but from having a skill and a down-to-earth life."

Yoshihiro Shimazu also stood up, his eyes full of agreement: "My goal in running for mayor this time is to promote the 'Return to Hometown to Start a Business' program, supporting young people to return to their hometowns and develop traditional industries. Nohara-kun's film has provided the best publicity for my plan. After the second episode airs, I will personally go to Gunma Prefecture to talk to Kosuke Sato and see if we can designate 'Sato-ya' as a 'Traditional Craft Demonstration Site'."

Takada Toshihide laughed and said, "Then I'll have to tell Hiroshi-kun in advance to film more footage of Gunma. Maybe it can help our station secure more cooperation projects with prefectural governments. Right now, all the prefectural governments in Japan are eyeing 'A Bite of China.' Who doesn't want their prefecture's specialty food to be featured on camera?"

Asumi took out her phone and quickly dialed Hiroshi Nohara's number: "Hiroshi-kun, the real-time ratings for the second episode are out, and it's already over 26% across Japan! Director Sakata and Shimazu-san are both praising you, saying that you deconstructed the narrative of the real estate bubble, that's amazing."

Hiroshi Nohara's calm voice came from the other end of the phone: "Thank you for your recognition. Actually, I just wanted to film true stories so that everyone could see that there are things worth upholding even in ordinary life."

After hanging up the phone, Asumi said to the three of them, "Hiroshi-kun is still so low-key. But he said he'll be going to Kyoto next week to scout locations for filming the third episode's wagashi shop. We can talk to the Kyoto Prefectural Government then and try to get more support."

Nobuhiko Sakata nodded, his tone full of anticipation: "Great! We'll give our full support to Hiroshi-kun and make 'A Bite of China' a flagship program for TV Tokyo and a calling card for Japanese culture. Young people today need shows like this; they need someone to tell them what a truly valuable life is."

……

The atmosphere in the Kanto-tai conference room was exceptionally lively at that moment.

Hiroshi Nohara hung up the phone and sat in the middle.

Kiyoto Suzuki, Yuichi Matsui, Sakurako Honda, and Shigeru Saito from the technical department sat around them, while the end credits of the second episode of "A Bite of China" were still playing on the television screen.

"fantastic!"

Kiyoto Suzuki was the first to applaud, his cane tapping crisply on the floor. “I’ve never cried while watching a documentary before. The part about the reconciliation between the Sato father and son reminded me of my son. He used to work in finance in Tokyo, and he finally came back to see me last year. He even said he wanted to learn how to make oden from me.”

Yuichi Matsui put down the camera and said excitedly, "I just received the data. The viewership in Gunma Prefecture has exceeded 18%, and the Kansai region has reached 15%, which is even higher than the first episode! The audience comments are almost exploding. Some people said, 'I'm going to Gunma to eat soba noodles tomorrow,' and others said, 'I want to call my father back home.'"

Shigeru Saito adjusted his glasses and spoke up, a rare occurrence for him: "The visuals this time are more refined than in the first episode. For the shots of the morning mist in the mountains, I used a soft-focus filter to emphasize the hazy feeling; for the close-up of kneading dough, I used side lighting to make the texture of the flour more obvious. Hiroshi-kun said, 'I want the audience to feel the texture of soba noodles,' and I think I've succeeded."

Sakurako Honda flipped through her notebook and said with a smile, "I just did a count. Tonight, more than twenty media outlets called wanting to interview Kosuke Sato, and three travel agencies want to collaborate with 'Sato-ya' to launch a 'Soba Noodle Culture Tour' itinerary. Hiroshi-kun, you've created another miracle!"

Hiroshi Nohara smiled, his tone still calm: "It wasn't me who created a miracle, it was Sato-san's story that touched everyone. In fact, everyone has a longing for their hometown and a yearning for a stable life. I just filmed those feelings."

Asano Kita pushed open the door and walked in, beaming with joy, saying, "Hiroshi-kun, look! My friends have texted me saying that the second episode 'uses the aroma of soba noodles to dispel the restlessness of the real estate bubble,' and that you 'use the simplest lens to capture the most profound life.'"

Ashikaga Takashi followed in, his tone full of admiration: "I just watched it with my colleagues from the film department, and everyone was saying that if we could have this kind of attention to detail when filming period dramas, we could definitely surpass our previous works. Hiroshi-kun, could you tell us how you manage to film ordinary life in such a moving way?"

Hiroshi Nohara nodded: "Actually, there are no special techniques. It's just about talking to your subjects, learning about their stories, and capturing the most authentic details. For example, Sato-san hums an old tune when he kneads dough. His father taught him that. I added that detail to the film to make the character more three-dimensional."

As they were talking, the meeting room door was pushed open, and a deliveryman walked in carrying several large food boxes: "Excuse me, are you Mr. Hiroshi Nohara? This is your order of soba noodles, yakitori, and beer."

Matsui Yuichi's eyes lit up: "Wow! Is this Gunma soba? I've been wanting to eat it for ages!"

Hiroshi Nohara said with a smile, "I asked Sato-san to send it over. Although it's not as fresh as when it was first cooked, it should taste pretty good. Everyone has had a hard day, let's eat together."

Everyone sat together and opened the food box. The aroma of buckwheat noodles instantly filled the air, and the rich, oily scent of yakitori mixed with the malty aroma of beer was incredibly tempting.

Suzuki Seito picked up his chopsticks, took a bite of soba noodles, and said with satisfaction, "Mmm! It tastes exactly the same as the ones at Sato-san's shop. It's chewy, and the sauce is delicious. Hiroshi-kun, your film has made more people aware of Gunma's soba noodles and has also reminded more people of the taste of their hometown. It's so meaningful."

While eating yakitori, Saito Shigeru suddenly said, "Hiroshi-kun, your filming style this time is different from before. The first episode focused more on the 'relationship between humans and nature,' while the second episode focused more on 'human emotions.' Moreover, the pacing is better, with suspense, ups and downs, and foreshadowing. For example, Kenta Sato's pager appeared three times before his resignation was revealed at the end. That design was brilliant."

Hiroshi Nohara nodded, but in his mind he thought of the documentary techniques he used on Earth in his previous life—he incorporated those experiences into his work, but couldn't say them out loud.

"Actually, I was just trying to incorporate the concept of episodic drama into a documentary."

He explained, “Each episode has a core story with a few foreshadowing elements that unfold gradually, allowing the audience to empathize. For example, Kenta Sato’s pager—I wanted to use it to show the pressure he faces in Tokyo and to foreshadow his resignation later on.”

"I see!" Asano Kita exclaimed in realization. "When I used to make heartwarming dramas, I always liked to tell the whole story at once without any foreshadowing, which made it easy for the audience to lose focus. Next time, I'll try your method and bury a few small clues in the plot to make the audience think along with me."

Takashi Ashikaga also said, "When I'm filming period dramas, I always think about grand scenes, but I neglect the emotional details of the characters. After watching your film, I realized that no matter how grand the scene is, it's not as powerful as a real emotional moment. Next time I film a samurai drama, I want to film more of the samurai's daily life, such as how they eat and how they get along with their families, to make the characters more realistic."

Hiroshi Nohara felt a warmth in his heart as he watched the crowd discussing the topic enthusiastically.

He knew that the success of "A Bite of China" was not his achievement alone, but the result of the hard work of everyone on the team and the stories of ordinary people that gave the documentary warmth and power.

"Please take your time eating,"

Hiroshi Nohara picked up his beer and clinked glasses with everyone. "Next week we're going to Kyoto to scout locations. There are still many stories waiting for us to film in the wagashi shop for the third episode. I hope we can create more great content and let more people see the beauty in ordinary life."

"cheers!"

Everyone raised their glasses, the crisp clinking echoing in the conference room. The Tokyo night view outside the window was still dazzling, but at this moment, everyone knew in their hearts that true beauty was not the hustle and bustle of skyscrapers, but the aroma of soba noodles, the reconciliation between father and son, and the perseverance and warmth in ordinary life.

After finishing their late-night snack, everyone was still enthusiastically discussing the filming techniques of "A Bite of China".

Yuichi Matsui took out a camera and played footage of audience reactions filmed during the day—in the footage, an old man wiped away tears, a young man called his hometown, and children asked curiously, "How is buckwheat flour made?"

"You see, this is the power of good content."

Yuichi Matsui remarked, "Hiroshi-kun, you not only made a documentary, but also connected people's emotions, reminding everyone of the beauty that has been overlooked. In the past, when I made news reports, I always thought about pursuing timeliness, but I forgot that news can also have warmth. In the future, I will learn from you and make more stories with emotion."

Sakurako Honda also said, "When I first proposed the 'Old Street Exploration' project, Matsui-san said no one would want to watch it. But after watching 'A Bite of China,' I'm more confident. Next week, I want to go to Kyoto with Hiroshi-kun to learn how to film traditional crafts. When I come back, I'll rewrite the proposal, and I'm sure it will be approved."

Kiyoto Suzuki looked at Hiroshi Nohara with eyes full of satisfaction: "Hiroshi-kun, I was right about you. When you first came to Kanto TV, I knew you were a young man with ideas, and now you have indeed produced such a great work. It is our good fortune and the good fortune of Japanese viewers to have a director like you at Kanto TV."

Hiroshi Nohara humbly said, "Thank you for your recognition, Mr. Suzuki. Actually, I just did what I was supposed to do: film true stories and convey warm emotions. I will continue to work hard and live up to everyone's expectations."

Suddenly, Shigeru Saito said, "Hiroshi-kun, your colleagues in the technical department really admire you. They say you not only understand content but also technology, and you know how to convey emotions through the lens. Next time, we'd like to invite you to give a presentation to the technical department on how to better integrate visuals and content. Would you be willing?"

“Of course I’m willing.” Hiroshi Nohara nodded. “Good technology should serve the content, and I’m happy to share my experience with everyone. Actually, many times, it’s not that the equipment isn’t good enough, but that we haven’t found the most suitable way to shoot. For example, when shooting soba noodles, you don’t need too complicated equipment. As long as you capture the force of kneading the dough and the heat of cooking the noodles, you can let the audience feel its deliciousness.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, their admiration for Hiroshi Nohara growing even stronger.

The discussion in the conference room was in full swing when suddenly hurried footsteps came from the doorway.

Kobayashi Hiroshi, a young employee in the technical department, was carrying a stack of freshly printed reports. His forehead was still damp with sweat as he rushed in, almost bumping into the door frame.

"Hiroshi-san! Ladies and gentlemen! The final viewership ratings are in!" His voice trembled, yet he couldn't contain his excitement. "The average viewership across Japan—32.2%! And in the Kanto region, it even soared to 38.5%!"

These words were like a spark thrown into a gasoline can, instantly igniting an uproar among the people who had been quietly conversing.

Yuichi Matsui jumped up from his chair, his hands trembling as he snatched the report, repeatedly checking the numbers: "32.2%? You can't believe your eyes! This is the highest record for a documentary in nearly twenty years! It's a full 8 percentage points higher than the first episode!"

Suzuki Seito's cane thumped on the floor, and he didn't even bother to steady his reading glasses which had slipped down to the tip of his nose. Staring at the numbers on the report, he exclaimed repeatedly, "Amazing! Truly amazing! Back in the day, the most popular show on Kanto TV, 'Kanto Fishermen's Song,' only had a peak viewership of 25%. Now, it's been surpassed by Hiroshi-kun's documentary by so much!"

Sakurako Honda pulled out her pager and her fingers flew across the keyboard as she sent a message to her colleague who was still out interviewing: "The Gunma Prefectural Government just called tonight saying that 'Satoya's' phone lines are ringing off the hook, and tomorrow's soba noodles are all pre-ordered. Now that we have this viewership data, even more people will definitely be going to Gunma!"

Even Saito Shigeru's usually calm face broke into a smile. He adjusted his glasses and looked at Nohara Hiroshi: "Hiroshi-kun, the feedback on the footage this time has been exceptionally good. In the scene with the morning mist in the mountains, viewers commented that it felt like walking through a field in Gunma; and in the close-up of Sato-san kneading dough, 30% of viewers said that it made them hungry and they immediately wanted to find some soba noodles to eat. Your technique has truly given the visuals a 'flavor'."

Hiroshi Nohara took the report, his fingertips brushing over the number "32.2%", his eyes remaining calm, only a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips.

He looked up at everyone and said in a gentle tone, "This is not my achievement alone. It was Saito-san's camera that captured the texture of the soba noodles, it was Matsui-san's audience reactions that made the story more vivid, and it was everyone's joint efforts in polishing the script that made Sato-san's story able to touch so many people."

"Hiroshi-kun, don't be so modest!"

Asano Kita slammed his hand on the table, his amiable smile even wider than usual. "Who doesn't know you're a genius? In manga, 'Yu Yu Hakusho' and 'Doraemon' are both national hits with sales exceeding ten million copies; the anime 'Yamishibai' pioneered a new genre of urban fantasy, and TV stations are still imitating it; the TV series 'Tales of the Unusual' is watched by countless families every week; the movie 'Seven Samurai' won international awards and was hailed by critics as 'a new pinnacle of samurai films.' Now you've even made documentaries this good. Your talent is simply unparalleled!"

Ashikaga Takashi also put aside his usual arrogance, his tone full of admiration: "I used to think that shooting period dramas was the real skill, and that documentaries were just 'recording life,' with no technical content. It wasn't until I watched your 'A Bite of China' that I realized that the most difficult thing is to make ordinary life more moving than an epic. Your filming of Kenta Sato's confusion in Tokyo, using the reflection of the glass curtain wall to express his loneliness, shows more skill than my filming of samurai duels."

Kenji Ito happened to come in from outside, holding the filming plan for "Midnight Diner" in his hand. Hearing everyone's praise, he immediately chimed in, "Absolutely! Hiroshi-kun can even make a slow-paced drama like 'Midnight Diner' so nostalgic, and now he's so good at making documentaries. Last time I talked to Takeshi Yamamoto, he said that with just a suggestion on the script for the episodes of 'Tales of the Unusual,' you can double the tension of the story. You can't find another person in all of Japan with this kind of cross-disciplinary talent!"

Just then, Takeshi Yamamoto called. Kenji Ito pressed the speakerphone button, and his excited voice immediately came through the receiver: "Kenji! Did you see the ratings? 32.2%! Hiroshi-kun is amazing! Our 'Tales of the Unusual' team was just discussing whether we should borrow the narrative style of 'A Bite of China' and make an episodic drama about 'food and memories' next time. Is Hiroshi-kun there? I'd like to ask him for some advice!"

Hiroshi Nohara took the phone, his tone still calm: "Yamamoto-san, there's no need to be so polite. 'Tales of the Unusual' itself has a strong storyline. If we add food elements, we can try starting with 'the people behind the ingredients,' such as the story of an old baker and his apprentice. That should be able to touch the audience."

Yamamoto Takeshi on the other end of the phone readily agreed: "Great idea! I'll write it down right away! Hiroshi-kun, once you're done filming in Kyoto, you must come and give us some pointers!"

After hanging up the phone, the atmosphere in the meeting room became even more lively.

Kei Tanaka had just rushed over from the variety show department, still holding a new project proposal for "Super Transformation": "Hiroshi-kun, our variety show department also wants to learn from your idea. Next time, let's do a 'Hometown Food Costume Makeover' special, where the audience can use costumes to showcase the special foods of their hometown. Maybe it can be like 'A Bite of China' and raise awareness of people's hometowns."

Hiroshi Nohara nodded: "That's a good idea. The focus should be on 'real emotions,' for example, someone can dress up as a grandma selling mochi, but behind that lies a story about her grandpa. That would be more heartwarming than just dressing up."

Despite the room full of praise, Hiroshi Nohara showed no sign of complacency.

He picked up the beer on the table and clinked glasses lightly with everyone: "You're all too kind to me. Actually, I was just lucky to find stories worth recording. Sato-san's perseverance, Nomizu-san's dedication, and those ordinary people who are willing to share their lives are the key to the success of 'A Bite of China'."

He looked at Seito Suzuki with respect in his voice: "If it weren't for Mr. Suzuki's support in making this documentary, I might still be struggling with whether or not to make a TV series first. You always said that 'content should follow people's hearts,' and I've always kept that in mind."

He then turned to Shigeru Saito: "Saito-san, when we were shooting the mountains of Gunma, you suggested using a soft-focus filter and natural sound effects, which gave the image a 'fog-like texture.' If we had used strong light as I originally intended, the effect definitely wouldn't have been as good."

These words warmed everyone's hearts even more.

Matsui Yuichi laughed and said, "That's just how Hiroshi is. Even though he deserves the most credit, he always thinks of others. Last time when we were filming the first episode, Nomizu-san's fishing boat had a problem, and you drove to the dock at three in the morning to help fix it. You never told anyone about it."

Sakurako Honda nodded in agreement: "My previous proposal for 'Old Street Exploration' was rejected. It was Hiroshi who helped me revise the script and communicated with Matsui-san, saying that 'young people's ideas are worth trying.' Now I am more confident in making this proposal a success."

Suzuki Seito looked at Nohara Hiroshi with eyes full of satisfaction: "There are many talented young people these days, but it's rare to find someone as talented, down-to-earth, and humble as Hiroshi-kun. Working with you gives us old guys a lot of motivation, and it feels like we've become a few years younger."

As the conversation continued, Yuichi Matsui suddenly sighed, his tone tinged with guilt: "To be honest, when Hiroshi first came from TV Tokyo, I was talking to Takashi Yamada and the others, wondering, 'Can such a young adult film director do a good job of reforming things?' Looking back now, I was really judging a gentleman by my own petty standards."

Takashi Yamada just walked in and blushed when he heard this: "Matsui-san is right. I used to think that Kanto TV's old traditions couldn't be abandoned, and that Hiroshi's methods were too 'new' and that the audience wouldn't accept them. But after the first episode aired, my son told me, 'Dad, your station's documentaries are better than dramas,' and that's when I realized I was wrong."

Ken Fujishita, rubbing his beer belly, added with a laugh: "I told the people in the advertising department before that 'A Bite of China' definitely wouldn't get any sponsorships, but Marui Soy Sauce added 50 million yen, and three travel companies came knocking on our door. Now the people in the advertising department are joking with me, saying, 'From now on, you should follow Hiroshi-kun's projects, you can't go wrong.'"

Hiroshi Kimura adjusted his round-framed glasses and said earnestly, "There have been changes in the personnel department as well. Before, the young directors from Kanto TV were always thinking about jumping ship to TV Tokyo, but now many of them are actively applying to join Hiroshi-kun's production department, saying, 'I want to learn how to make content with warmth.' Hiroshi-kun, you not only made documentaries popular, but you also retained the talent of our station."

Upon hearing this, Hiroshi Nohara gently shook his head: "I just did what I was supposed to do. Kanto TV has many excellent seniors and colleagues, but we just lacked an opportunity for everyone to showcase their talents. Now that 'A Bite of China' is a hit, it proves our station's strength, and we will definitely have more great projects in the future."

Kobayashi Jiro opened his notebook and pointed to the proposals: "I had more than a dozen proposals about traditional crafts before, but they were all rejected because 'no one would watch them.' Now that we have the success of 'A Bite of China,' I plan to reorganize these proposals, consult with Hiroshi-kun, and then submit them to the station. Maybe we can produce a few more good works like 'A Bite of China.'"

As night deepened, the lights of Tokyo outside the window were already twinkling.

Yuichi Matsui picked up a bowl of soba noodles from the table, took a big bite, and mumbled, "I really want to see tomorrow's newspapers! The Asahi Shimbun and Yomiuri Shimbun will definitely report on it extensively, maybe even with headlines like '32.2%! A Bite of China Rewrites Japanese Film and Television History'!"

Kita Asano chuckled and chimed in, "And film critics too! When Akira Saeki wrote about the first episode, he praised Hiroshi's shots for having a 'breathing quality.' Now that we've seen the 32.2% viewership, he'll definitely write an even more insightful review. Maybe someone will even analyze why 'A Bite of China' has surpassed variety shows and dramas to become a national phenomenon."

Sakurako Honda pulled out her notebook and began to dream: "Gunma Prefecture will definitely capitalize on this popularity and launch more soba noodle-related tourism products. For example, a 'Follow the Bite of Gunma' tour, taking tourists to Sato-san's shop to learn how to knead dough and to pick buckwheat seeds in the mountains. I definitely want to go and interview them and film a follow-up documentary!"

As the conversation went on, someone suddenly mentioned Tokyo TV, and a burst of laughter immediately filled the conference room.

Tanaka Kei put down his beer can and joked, "I wonder if Deputy Director Takahashi Kazuo will smash his coffee cup again when he sees these ratings? Last time, they were already in a bad situation with 1.9% to 24.1% in the first episode. This time, with 32.2%, I bet the people at the city station won't be able to sleep tonight."

Ashikaga Takashi laughed along, "And then there's Kamiki Shunsuke! Last time he called 'A Bite of China' a 'poor documentary,' and his own variety show's ratings were less than 2%. This time, seeing 32.2%, I wonder if he'll have his manager do something underhanded again, like spreading rumors about Sato-san."

Hiroshi Nohara's eyes darkened slightly upon hearing this, but he didn't say much. He simply picked up his beer and clinked it with the others: "Regardless of how others react, we just need to do our own thing. Tomorrow we still need to communicate with the Kyoto Prefectural Government about filming the third episode. Right now, the most important thing is to get in good shape and do our job well."

Kiyoto Suzuki nodded in agreement: "Hiroshi-kun is right. But to be honest, it's quite satisfying to see the city TV station get its comeuppance. They always try to fool the audience with popular celebrities and staged variety shows, and now they deserve to be beaten to a pulp by 'A Bite of China'."

After a few more laughs, the conversation returned to the wagashi (Japanese sweets) shops in Kyoto. Saito Shigeru had already begun to conceive the shot: "Kyoto wagashi emphasizes 'seasonality,' such as sakura mochi in spring and yokan (sweet bean jelly) in summer. The camera needs to capture the delicacy of the icing and the colors of the wagashi. I want to try using backlighting to make the icing look like it's sprinkled with a layer of crushed diamonds."

Hiroshi Nohara listened attentively, occasionally adding a word or two: "We should also film the hands of the wagashi (Japanese sweets) masters. The strength with which the masters knead the dough and the meticulousness with which they draw the patterns—these details allow the audience to appreciate the preciousness of the craft. In addition, we can film more of Kyoto's old streets, connecting the story of wagashi with the city's history."

As night deepened, the lights in the conference room remained bright.

The buckwheat noodles on the table had gone cold, and a row of empty beer cans stood out, but nobody cared.

Everyone's face was filled with excitement and anticipation, as if they could already see what Kyoto's wagashi shops looked like on camera, and the scene of the third episode of "A Bite of China" achieving another great success.

Looking at the crowd before him, Hiroshi Nohara felt a sudden surge of warmth and reassurance. He knew that the 32.2% viewership rating was not the end, but a new beginning.

Next, there are Kyoto's wagashi (traditional Japanese sweets), Saitama's old bakeries, and many more stories of ordinary people waiting to be recorded.

And his partners, who fight alongside him, will work together to turn these stories into heartwarming and inspiring works.

The discussion went on until late at night, and it was nearly dawn when everyone left.

Hiroshi Nohara didn't go straight home, but instead took a detour to "Mizukami Sho Midnight Diner" in Shinjuku Ward.

This place has become his own little secret spot.

Pushing open the door, the warm yellow light, carrying the aroma of pork bone soup, wafts out. The owner, Mizukami Sho, is wiping a glass with his head down, his scars faintly visible under the light.

"Hiroshi-kun, the usual?" Mizukami Sho looked up and saw Nohara Hiroshi. He immediately smiled and spoke in a calm tone, already holding an apron in his hand.

"Hmm, a bowl of char siu ramen, and two skewers of grilled chicken." Hiroshi Nohara sat at the bar, looking at the newly pasted "A Bite of China" poster on the wall—it was specially delivered by Misae, and it even had a cartoon version of Kosuke Sato kneading dough on it.

While cooking noodles, Mizukami Sho suddenly said, "Today's episode 2 of 'A Bite of Japan' was really good. I was very moved after watching it."

Hiroshi Nohara smiled, his fingertips tracing the rim of his glass: "The main thing is that the story was well-chosen. Many people can empathize with Sato-san's persistence."

“It’s not just a story.” Mizukami Sho placed a bowl of ramen in front of him, the soup steaming. “You’re not filming buckwheat noodles, you’re filming people’s hearts. Just like my cafeteria, customers come not for food, but for a place where they can let go of their fatigue.”

Hiroshi Nohara picked up a mouthful of noodles and suddenly remembered the story of Midnight Diner on Earth in his previous life. He said softly, "Yes, good content always helps people find a 'foothold' in their hearts. Next time I film Kyoto wagashi, I want to film more interactions between the master chefs and customers, such as someone coming all the way from Osaka just to eat a specific wagashi."

Mizukami Sho nodded and handed over another skewer of grilled chicken: "This is where your talent lies, Nohara-kun."

His tone was one of感慨 (gǎnkǎi, deep emotion/reflection).

Looking at Hiroshi Nohara was as if he were looking at a deity.

Indeed, Mizukami Sho, the former veteran actor, now the owner of Midnight Diner and the lead actor in the show, has no pride in his achievements.

On the contrary, Hiroshi Nohara, the young man who made him who he is, truly regards him from the bottom of his heart as an omnipotent god!
And that's exactly how it is.

Who would dare to regard Hiroshi Nohara as an ordinary young man now?

Born in a neon-lit society, these young people are like dragons, destined to become true dragons soaring above the heavens!

(End of this chapter)