I, Hiroshi Nohara, the star of Japanese cinema

Chapter 255 The symposium begins! A significant introduction! Regarding future economic trends!

In the top-floor conference room of the Tokyo Broadcasting Corporation (NHK) building, sunlight streamed through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows onto the long walnut table, making the celadon teacups on the table gleam with a warm light.

The conference room was already full of people, with a faint aroma of coffee and the soft rustling of papers filling the air. Everyone who sat down exuded the calm and composed aura of industry elites—there was a senior director from Osaka TV, the president of the Hokkaido Documentary Association, and several elderly scholars with gray hair and gold-rimmed glasses. They were titans of the Japanese cultural world.

As Hiroshi Nohara entered the conference room, guided by staff, his gaze quickly swept across the room, immediately recognizing several faces he frequently saw in industry magazines—

For example, sitting in the third row on the left is Kosaku Yamada, the director of "Kita no Kuni no Koi" (Love in the Northern Country), who is known for his delicate emotional portrayals; and sitting by the window is Ryo Takeuchi, who won an international documentary award for "Tokyo Story".

These people, whom he usually only saw on television and in news reports, all turned to look at him with curiosity and scrutiny.

Hiroshi Nohara nodded slightly, maintaining a calm smile, and walked to the empty seat indicated by the staff to sit down.

Before he could even pull out his chair, Yamada Kousaku, who was sitting in the front row, stood up first, walked over quickly, and extended his calloused hand: "This must be Hiroshi Nohara, right? I'm Yamada Kousaku from Osaka TV. I watch every episode of 'A Bite of Japan,' it's really well-made!"

Hiroshi Nohara quickly grasped his hand, speaking respectfully: "Hello, Yamada-senpai, I am Hiroshi Nohara. I read your 'Love in the Northern Country' when I was in school, and I have always admired your ability to capture the details of life."

“Oh, those are all old works.” Yamada Kosaku smiled and waved his hand, then stepped aside to let the people behind him out. “Come, let me introduce you. This is Takeuchi Ryo, from the Hokkaido Documentary Association. You’ve definitely seen his documentary ‘Fishing Season’. And this is Sato Junichi from Kyoto Television, who specializes in making documentaries about traditional crafts.”

Ryo Takeuchi and Junichi Sato stepped forward to shake hands with Hiroshi Nohara, introducing themselves and mentioning his work: "Nohara-kun, I watched the 'Scarecrow' episode of 'Yamishibai' three times in a row. Using urban legends to talk about human nature, that idea is brilliant!"

"I spent half a month analyzing the scene between the peasant and the samurai in 'Seven Samurai.' Your deconstruction of class conflict is so profound!"

Hiroshi Nohara was about to introduce himself in detail when Junichi Sato waved his hand with a smile: "No need for introductions. Who in Japan doesn't know Nohara-kun's name now? He won three major industry awards at the age of 23, and every movie he makes is a hit. We old guys are almost being outdone by you."

Ryo Takeuchi, standing next to him, nodded in agreement, his tone filled with emotion: "Speaking of which, we were just talking about what kind of young people could create a work like 'A Bite of China'—it captures the everyday charm of food and the dedication of artisans. Even my husband watches it every day and says he wants to take the kids to Chiba for seafood donburi after watching it."

Upon hearing this, Hiroshi Nohara smiled modestly and said, "You flatter me too much. The reason why 'A Bite of China' is so popular is mainly because everyone on the team put in a lot of effort. From the initial research to the later editing, everyone put in a lot of thought. Moreover, TV Tokyo and TV Kanto have given me a lot of support. They have never shortchanged me in terms of equipment or resources."

"You can't say that."

Kosaku Yamada patted him on the shoulder, his eyes serious. “We’ve been in this industry for decades, and we know that the core of a good work still lies with the director. Look at the fourth episode of ‘A Bite of China,’ when Sato-san at the old bakery in Saitama was kneading dough, you gave him a close-up of his hands for a full five seconds, and even added the old tune he was humming—this kind of shot that captures ‘human touch’ can’t be filmed by a team alone; the director has to have an eye for life.”

Junichi Sato chimed in, "And the fifth one is the thick omelet from Gunma Prefecture. You didn't just film how it's made; you also filmed the scene of the proprietress going to the market at 3 a.m. every day to pick out eggs, and then added a line from her: 'My son loved eating this when he was little'—that one line brought the whole film to life. When we film traditional crafts, we always try to show the process clearly, but we forget that what's most touching is actually the story behind it. We should really learn from you in this respect."

Just as everyone was discussing "A Bite of China" with Hiroshi Nohara, a deep voice suddenly came from the door of the conference room, with an undeniable aura: "Well said! The core of a good work is always the creator's vision and intention."

Everyone looked in the direction of the voice and saw an elderly man with gray hair, dressed in a dark gray suit, walking in accompanied by staff.

He was tall and straight, and although he was over sixty, his eyes were still sharp. He walked with a steady gait, and every step carried the solemnity unique to officials.

The people in the conference room fell silent instantly, stood up, and bowed slightly to the old man: "Minister Miyazawa!"

Hiroshi Nohara's heart skipped a beat.

Yuichi Miyazawa is the Deputy Director of the Public Relations Department of the Japanese Cabinet and also the Honorary Chairman of NHK. He is one of the top decision-makers in the field of Japanese cultural promotion.

He hadn't expected that such a high-ranking person would be invited to this symposium.

Yuichi Miyazawa's gaze swept across the room, finally landing on Hiroshi Nohara, a gentle smile appearing on his face: "This must be Hiroshi Nohara, right? I came here specifically for you."

Hiroshi Nohara quickly stepped forward and bowed slightly: "Department Head Miyazawa, I am Hiroshi Nohara. I am honored by your attention."

“No need to be so polite.” Yuichi Miyazawa waved his hand, his tone friendly. “I’ve seen all your works, from ‘Yamishibai’ to ‘A Bite of China,’ and every single one of them has impressed me. Especially ‘Super Transformation.’ Before, Japanese people were often said to be ‘cold,’ with neighbors not talking much to each other. But since this variety show became popular, I’ve heard that many communities have organized ‘family costume contests,’ and even my neighbor’s kids are dragging their parents to rehearse for the show—you see, a good work can really change social attitudes.”

He paused, then looked at the others present, his tone serious: "I'm here today for two reasons. First, I want to hear everyone's thoughts on the future development of documentaries. Second, I want to meet Mr. Nohara in person. Many young people find documentaries boring and don't want to watch them, but Mr. Nohara proved with 'A Bite of China' that documentaries can be interesting, heartwarming, and can also convey cultural values. This innovative spirit is something we should all learn from."

After saying that, Yuichi Miyazawa gestured to Hiroshi Nohara: "Nohara-kun, come, sit next to me. Let's have a good chat about the creative ideas behind 'A Bite of China' and your thoughts on the inheritance of traditional crafts."

Upon hearing this, a low gasp of surprise immediately filled the conference room.

The directors and scholars sitting around him looked at Hiroshi Nohara with envy—being able to sit side by side with a deputy cabinet minister was not only an honor, but also an absolute recognition of his abilities by the higher-ups.

It's worth noting that even a seasoned director like Kosaku Yamada had only seen Yuichi Miyazawa once before, from afar, at an industry conference, and had never had the opportunity to interact with him up close.

Hiroshi Nohara followed Yuichi Miyazawa to the head seat and sat down. As soon as they were settled, they saw more officials in suits enter the conference room—the director of the Cultural Bureau of the Ministry of Education, the chairman of the Tokyo Metropolitan Board of Education, and several publicity officials from local governments.

As they walked in, their eyes immediately turned to Hiroshi Nohara, filled with curiosity and surprise, clearly having all heard of this "23-year-old genius director."

“I didn’t expect Nohara-kun to be so young.” The director of the Ministry of Education, Culture, Sports, Science and Technology, sitting opposite him, sighed softly, his tone full of surprise. “I thought that someone who could make a profound work like Seven Samurai would be at least a director over forty years old.”

The chairman of the Tokyo Metropolitan Board of Education, who was standing next to him, nodded in agreement: "Yes, he's only 23, two years younger than my son, yet he's already producing works that have a national impact. I didn't believe Minister Miyazawa when he said he could change the social climate, but now it seems that young people do have different ideas and always bring us surprises."

These whispers, though not loud, reached Hiroshi Nohara's ears clearly.

He did not show any arrogance, but simply sat quietly with his fingers gently resting on his knees, waiting for the symposium to officially begin.

He knew that the honor he was receiving was not the end, but a higher starting point. What he needed to do next was to respond to these expectant eyes with more professional insights.

After all the officials were seated, Yuichi Miyazawa gently tapped the table, and the conference room instantly fell silent.

He picked up his prepared remarks from the table, but instead of reading them verbatim, he put them down, looked at everyone present, and began sincerely: "Today, let's not be formalistic. Let's chat like friends, about documentaries and the cultural heritage of Japan. But before that, I'd like to talk about Hiroshi Nohara's work, because his work provides us with a great direction for discussion."

His gaze turned to Hiroshi Nohara, his eyes filled with admiration: "Nohara-kun, tell us first, why did you come up with the idea of ​​making a documentary called 'A Bite of Japan'? Many people think that food documentaries lack depth, but you've made something different."

Hiroshi Nohara sat up straight and answered earnestly, “Minister Miyazawa, the reason I started making ‘A Bite of China’ was because I discovered that many traditional crafts were disappearing. For example, the tuna fishing technique in Chiba is now only known by a few people, such as senior Masayoshi Nomizu; and in Saitama, only three old bakeries in all of Tokyo are still using their family’s traditional yeast. I wanted to use food, a topic that everyone is interested in, to get more people to pay attention to these crafts and understand the stories behind the artisans—after all, food is not just for eating, but also a carrier of culture.”

"well said!"

Yuichi Miyazawa couldn't help but clap his hands in praise, "You've grasped the core of 'cultural carrier.' Many people who promote traditional culture like to preach grand principles, saying 'we must protect tradition,' but the public doesn't listen. You use food as a bridge, so that when people see 'how to make tuna donburi' or 'how to knead bread,' they naturally remember these skills and even want to try them out—this kind of subtle and pervasive promotion is more effective than any slogan."

He then looked at the others present, his tone tinged with emotion:

“Look at how clear Nohara’s thinking is! He made ‘Yamishibai’ not to scare people, but to deconstruct Japanese mythology with urban legends and make young people pay attention to traditional culture again; he made ‘Tales of the Unusual’, and each episode talks about ‘human nature’, including greed, kindness and regret, so that the audience can reflect on their own lives after watching it; and there’s ‘Hachiko Monogatari’, a movie that made all of Japan remember ‘loyalty’ and ‘companionship’, and even kindergartens use it as a moral education textbook.”

At this point, Yuichi Miyazawa picked up a clip from "A Bite of China" on the table and flipped to a segment from episode six:

“Look at this scene: fishermen in Chiba fishing port set sail at dawn. The waves crashed against their boats, but they smiled and said, ‘Today’s fishing season is sure to be good.’ This kind of optimism in the face of life is more touching than any preaching. Nohara-kun didn’t deliberately try to be sentimental; he just filmed the real scene. But it is this authenticity that allows the audience to feel the fishermen’s resilience and makes more people want to go to Chiba to support their fishing industry.”

Sitting next to him, Kosaku Yamada couldn't help but nod: "Minister Miyazawa is right. When I was filming 'Kita no Kuni no Koi' (The Northern Country Love), I always tried to put the emotions into the dialogue, but Nohara-kun let the camera speak for itself—for example, in 'A Bite of China,' when Sato-san brushes egg wash on bread, his hand trembles involuntarily. This detail conveys his age and his appreciation for bread more effectively than any dialogue. We old folks should learn from this 'thunder in silence' technique."

Yuichi Miyazawa continued, "And then there's 'Super Transformation,' that variety show is amazing. Before, neighborly relations in Japan were very cold; people lived there for over a decade and didn't even know their neighbors' names. But since this show became popular, many communities have organized 'family talent competitions,' with parents rehearsing with their children and neighbors helping each other come up with ideas—this kind of connection between people is priceless. The Cabinet is currently discussing whether to promote the 'Super Transformation' model to community building nationwide, using entertainment to promote neighborly harmony."

He paused, his tone becoming more serious:
"What's most remarkable about Nohara-kun is his ability to grasp the 'pulse of the times.' Although Japan's economy appears prosperous now, young people are experiencing a great deal of anxiety, with many feeling hopeless about the future. Yet, his works always possess an 'uplifting force'—the farmers in 'Seven Samurai' rebelling against bullies, the strangers in 'Midnight Diner' comforting each other, and the artisans in 'A Bite of China' upholding their traditions. These stories tell the audience that even when life is difficult, there are reasons to persevere. This kind of spiritual guidance is extremely important for Japan today."

Everyone in the conference room nodded, their eyes filled with admiration as they looked at Hiroshi Nohara.

Previously, some people had doubts because of his youth, but now they were all impressed by his talent and vision. Takeuchi Ryo even took out his notebook and carefully recorded Miyazawa Yuichi's words, muttering to himself, "I need to have the team learn from Nohara-kun's thinking when we get back. We can't be limited to the traditional documentary model anymore."

Looking at the scene before him, Hiroshi Nohara felt no pride, but rather a greater sense of clarity.

The recognition I have today comes not only from my experience on Earth, but also from the fact that this era needs such works—people who can warm people's hearts with real stories and convey culture in innovative ways.

He simply happened to be at that juncture and did what he was supposed to do.

Looking at Hiroshi Nohara's composed demeanor, Yuichi Miyazawa grew increasingly satisfied. He gently tapped the table, announcing the official start of the discussion: "Alright, that's enough about Nohara-kun's work for now. Now, let's get down to business and talk about how to make documentaries in the future, and how to better preserve Japanese culture..."

Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, falling on Hiroshi Nohara and making his profile exceptionally clear.

He picked up his pen, opened his notebook, and prepared to listen attentively to everyone's remarks—in his view, this symposium was not a stage for displaying honors, but a classroom for learning and a window to understand the needs of this era.

As soon as Yuichi Miyazawa finished speaking, a brief silence fell over the conference room.

All eyes were drawn to the cultural map in the center of the long table—it had been laid out in advance by the staff, marking cultural exchange points between Japan and various parts of the world.

Yuichi Miyazawa leaned over and pointed to the map, his tone filled with expectation: "You are all the backbone of the Japanese cultural field. Today I want to talk to you about 'cultural export'. We can't just keep our good works in our own country. We need to let Japanese culture go global and let the world see our craftsmanship, stories, and spirit."

His finger first landed on the Middle East: "Our friends in the Middle East value family and tradition. We can translate the heartwarming stories in 'Midnight Diner' into Arabic and add local musical elements. For example, the scene where Shozo Mizukami makes ramen for a lonely old man—this kind of 'kindness between strangers' can resonate in any culture. In addition, the Middle East has a rich food culture. We can collaborate with local TV stations to produce a documentary called 'Neon Flavors and the Middle East,' using food as a bridge to introduce the traditional crafts of both sides."

Then, the finger slid to Southeast Asia: "Southeast Asia places great importance on the concept of 'home.' The interactions between Nobita and his family in 'Doraemon' and the loyalty in 'Hachiko: A Dog's Tale' are very suitable for promotion in Southeast Asia. We can also cut out rice cultivation and fishing scenes from 'A Bite of China' and compare them with the agricultural culture of Southeast Asia, so that local audiences feel that 'our lives are very similar,' making it easier for them to accept Japanese culture."

When mentioning Europe, Yuichi Miyazawa's tone became more detailed: "European audiences like stories with depth. The class conflicts in 'Seven Samurai' and the humanistic reflections in 'Tales of the Unusual' are very much to their liking. We can collaborate with the Cannes Film Festival in France to hold a 'Neon Documentary Exhibition' and include works like 'A Bite of China' and 'Fishing Season.' In addition, there are many artisans in Europe. We can invite them to Japan to make bread and wagashi with Kosuke Sato and Sumie Yamada, and make a film called 'Crafts Across Mountains and Seas,' which can not only showcase Japanese culture but also promote the exchange of skills between the two sides."

When his finger landed on the African continent, his eyes softened: "Our friends in Africa like content that is passionate and powerful. The family creativity in 'Super Transformation' and the mythological adaptation in 'Yamishibai' can be adapted to a more lively style. We can also donate a batch of animation projection equipment to show 'Doraemon' in rural schools in Africa, so that children can learn about Japan through animation and know that dreams and friendship are universal, no matter where they are."

Finally, Yuichi Miyazawa pointed to North and South America: "North American audiences like visually impactful works. The battle scenes in 'Seven Samurai' and the food close-ups in 'A Bite of China' can be re-edited into movie-quality trailers. South American audiences like music and dance, so we can combine the creative performances in 'Super Transformation' with South American samba and tango to make a variety show about 'cultural fusion.' In addition, North America has many immigrants, so we can make a show called 'Neon Immigrant Stories,' telling the stories of Japanese people living in North America and allowing local audiences to understand Japanese culture through real stories."

After he finished speaking, he looked up at everyone and said, "This is just my initial idea. How to implement it will require everyone's input. For example, how to overcome language barriers? How to adapt to the cultural habits of different regions? How to find reliable local partners? These are things we need to explore gradually. But I believe that as long as we produce works with warmth and depth like 'A Bite of China,' we will definitely be able to make Japanese culture take root around the world."

As soon as Yuichi Miyazawa finished speaking, Ryo Takeuchi, who was sitting in the front row, raised his hand to speak first: "Minister Miyazawa, your idea is so inspiring! When I was filming 'Fishing Season' before, I encountered the problem that foreign audiences were interested in Hokkaido's fishing industry, but couldn't understand the details due to cultural differences. If we could cooperate with the local community to adjust the content as you suggested, it would definitely make more people like our documentary."

He paused, his voice tinged with excitement: "I'd like to add something about promoting African culture. We can cut out the food preparation process from 'A Bite of China' and make it into instructional videos—for example, how to knead buckwheat dough and how to brew sake. This would allow young people in Africa to learn these skills, spreading the culture and helping them increase their income. This 'teaching a man to fish' approach is more meaningful than simply showing the program."

Junichi Sato of Kyoto Television chimed in, "I agree with Takeuchi's point. When we make documentaries about traditional crafts, we always feel the need to be 'authentic,' but we overlook the acceptance level of audiences in different regions. For example, European audiences are not familiar with the concept of 'family crests,' so when we introduce kimonos, we need to explain it using 'family crests' that they can understand. In the future, when we create, we should consider the possibility of 'cross-cultural communication' more, so that our works have both Japanese characteristics and can be understood by audiences worldwide."

Kosaku Yamada from Osaka TV then steered the conversation back to "deep creation": "Minister Miyazawa just mentioned the need to make films with depth, and I wholeheartedly agree. Many young people today like to make fast-food style works, pursuing short-term popularity, but they forget that the core of a work is to 'transmit values.' The reason why Nohara-kun's 'A Bite of China' was successful is because he didn't just film food, but used food to tell the stories of artisans and the inheritance of culture. We old guys should take the lead and make more works that can stand the test of time, setting an example for young people."

He looked at Hiroshi Nohara, his tone full of admiration: "Nohara-kun, could you share more about your creative experience? For example, when filming 'A Bite of China,' how did you balance 'professionalism' and 'entertainment'? How did you make it easy for ordinary viewers to understand the craftsmanship without finding it boring?" Hiroshi Nohara put down his pen and replied calmly: "Mr. Yamada, I think the key is to 'find the audience's points of resonance.' For example, when filming Mr. Sato making bread, we wouldn't just film his kneading steps, but we would film him getting up at three in the morning to prepare the ingredients, and film him reserving the flavors that his regular customers liked. These 'lifelike details' can make the audience feel involved. In addition, we would present professional content in a 'storytelling' way—for example, when explaining the role of yeast, we would interweave the story of the yeast passed down from Mr. Sato's father, so that the audience could naturally understand the professional knowledge while listening to the story."

He paused, then added, “Another important point is ‘respecting the audience’s intelligence.’ We won’t deliberately evoke emotions or impose our views on the audience. Instead, we let the audience experience things for themselves through the lens. For example, in ‘A Bite of China,’ when we filmed fishermen encountering storms, we didn’t add narration like ‘they’re working so hard.’ Instead, we filmed them helping each other haul in their nets and then laughing and sharing their catch with their families back in port. When the audience sees these scenes, they will naturally understand the fishermen’s resilience and optimism.”

After listening attentively to Hiroshi Nohara's sharing, Yuichi Miyazawa smiled with satisfaction: "Nohara-kun is absolutely right! 'Respect for the audience' is the core of creation. The reason why many works are not popular now is because the creators put themselves in the position of 'educators' and forget that what the audience needs is 'equal communication'. The success of 'A Bite of China' has taught us all a lesson—good works are not about condescending preaching, but about sharing stories and conveying emotions on an equal footing."

He picked up the viewership report for "A Bite of China" on the table and said to everyone, "Look, everyone, 'A Bite of China' has surpassed 500 million views overseas, with Southeast Asia and North America accounting for the highest percentage of viewers. Many foreign viewers have commented that they learned about Japanese culture through 'A Bite of China' and want to travel to Japan to try the local cuisine. This is the significance of cultural export—not forcibly exporting, but using our work to attract others to actively learn about us."

Yuichi Miyazawa then shifted his tone, becoming more serious: "Next, NHK will establish a 'Cultural Export Task Force' to coordinate the global promotion plan. We will allocate a special fund of 10 billion yen to support everyone in producing works suitable for cross-cultural dissemination. Whether it's documentaries, films, or animation, as long as there's a good idea, you can apply for funding. In addition, we will establish cooperative relationships with television stations in 20 countries around the world to provide you with overseas broadcasting channels."

He looked at Hiroshi Nohara, his tone filled with expectation: "Nohara-kun, we hope you can serve as the 'creative consultant' for the special task force, sharing the creative experience of 'A Bite of China' with more people. At the same time, we would also like to invite you to make a documentary on 'cultural export,' recording the exchange process between Japanese artisans and their global counterparts. Would you be willing to accept this task?"

Hiroshi Nohara bowed slightly and answered firmly, “Thank you for your trust, Minister Miyazawa. I am willing to accept this task. I plan to first conduct on-site research in Southeast Asia and the Middle East to understand local cultural customs and audience preferences. Then, I will combine this with traditional Japanese crafts to make a film called ‘Taste Across Mountains and Seas.’ For example, in Thailand, we can film local chefs collaborating with Japanese confectionery masters to create ‘Thai confectionery’; in Turkey, we can film local kebab masters exchanging cooking techniques with Japanese ramen masters—through these scenes of ‘cultural collision,’ we can showcase the inclusiveness and diversity of Japanese culture.”

His words immediately caught everyone's attention, and Takeuchi Ryo said, "Nohara-kun, I want to go with you! I can be responsible for filming the local fishing and farming culture and comparing it with related crafts in Japan, making the documentary content richer."

Junichi Sato chimed in, "I want to join in too! I can film the exchange of traditional crafts, such as kimono masters in Kyoto collaborating with embroidery masters in Europe to create new clothing pieces. This would showcase Japanese craftsmanship and also attract the interest of European audiences."

Seeing everyone's enthusiasm, Yuichi Miyazawa smiled with satisfaction: "That's great! I'm very happy that everyone is so enthusiastic. Cultural export is not a one-person job; it requires the concerted efforts of all of us. Next, the special task force will formulate a detailed plan as soon as possible. Please feel free to raise any ideas you may have."

The symposium continued, with participants engaging in more detailed discussions on "cultural export" and "in-depth creative work."

From the details of language translation to the selection of local partners, from the promotion schedule of the work to the collection of feedback, every aspect was discussed in great depth.

Hiroshi Nohara diligently recorded everyone's thoughts and offered his own suggestions from time to time. His clear thinking and thorough consideration impressed the seniors present, who couldn't help but admire his "promising talent at such a young age."

As the sun set, the symposium finally came to an end.

As everyone walked out of the NHK building, their faces were filled with a sense of accomplishment.

Kosaku Yamada patted Hiroshi Nohara on the shoulder, his tone filled with emotion: "Nohara-kun, the future of Japanese culture rests on you young people. We old guys will fully support you and hope you can create more great works like 'A Bite of China' so that the world can see the charm of Japan."

Hiroshi Nohara smiled and nodded: "Thank you for your support, Yamada-senpai. I will continue to work hard and live up to everyone's expectations. Cultural export is not something that can be achieved overnight; it requires us to take one step at a time. I believe that as long as we persist in making works that are warm and profound, one day, Japanese culture will shine brightly on the world stage."

He looked up at the sunset on the horizon, his heart filled with anticipation.

Whether it's filming "The Taste Across Mountains and Seas" or working on the "Cultural Going Global Special Team," these are all new challenges, but he is confident—because he knows that he is not fighting alone, but has a group of like-minded partners around him, working together towards the goal of "bringing Japanese culture to the world."

Meanwhile, at Tokyo TV, not far away, Kazuo Takahashi was watching the NHK report on the symposium with a complex expression on his face.

The image of Hiroshi Nohara sitting side by side with Yuichi Miyazawa, engaging in a lively discussion with many industry veterans, in the report stung his eyes.

He recalled Shunsuke Kamiki's hysteria that morning, and the fact that Tokyo TV was barely surviving on entertainment variety shows. A strong sense of crisis suddenly welled up in his heart—if they couldn't produce profound and valuable works, Tokyo TV would be eliminated by the times sooner or later.

Kazuo Takahashi picked up the phone and dialed Mikami Tanaka's number, his voice tinged with urgency: "Mayor, we must change our strategy. We can't rely solely on Shunsuke Kamiki's variety shows anymore. Look at NHK's roundtable discussions; Hiroshi Nohara is already promoting cultural exports. If we don't keep up, we'll really be left behind..."

Tanaka Mikami's somber voice came from the other end of the phone, and Takahashi Kazuo's expression grew increasingly grave.

He knew that what seemed to be a "battle between the old and the new" in neon cultural creation was actually a sign that the higher-ups were beginning to change their thinking.

……

Inside the "Golden Pavilion" on the top floor of the Qilin Group headquarters building, the light from the gilded chandelier shines on the dark red carpet, making the ukiyo-e paintings hanging on the wall appear even more exquisite.

At either end of the long rosewood table, Tanaka Mikami and Sato Tokugawa sat side by side. In the white porcelain teacups in front of them, freshly picked Uji matcha was brewing. The tea was clear, but no one touched it—their eyes were fixed on the man at the head of the table, their bodies leaning slightly forward, their postures showing obvious respect.

The man at the head of the table wore a custom-made dark black suit with an inconspicuous silver badge on his lapel, and an unlit cigar between his fingers. He was about fifty years old, with fine wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, but his gaze was like a steel blade tempered with ice, sweeping over the two men with an undeniable sense of oppression.

This is a mysterious official from the Cabinet's "Economic Deliberation Office." The outside world only knows that he acts under the code name "Saeki," and his specific name and position have never been disclosed, yet he can directly influence the direction of Japan's economic policies.

“Mr. Saeki, this is the report on the Tokyo Bay reclamation project you requested,” Sato Tokugawa broke the silence first, his thick fingers sliding across the document, his tone ingratiating. “We have already secured 30% of the sea area usage rights, and as long as the funding is in place, construction can begin next year. The high-end apartments that will be built then will be priced at at least 800,000 yen per square meter, with absolutely substantial profits.”

Tanaka Mikami quickly handed over a document, bowing even lower: "Sir, this is the draft of Tokyo's 'Urban Renewal Plan' for next year. I have already spoken with the council, and the focus will be on real estate development. If you give your approval, we can hand over the demolition project in the old city to President Sato's team. It will boost GDP and solve the housing problem at the same time, which is a win-win situation."

Saeki did not take the documents, but slowly raised his hand, gesturing for the two to sit down.

He picked up the silver lighter on the table, lit the cigar with a "click," and the smoke slowly dissipated into the air, blurring his expression.

“I understand what you’re thinking,” his voice was deep and hoarse, carrying the authority of someone who had been in a high position for many years, “but before we discuss the project, you should all know what the phone call I just received was about, right?”

Tanaka Mikami's heart skipped a beat, but he immediately put on a smile and said in a relaxed tone, "You mean that NHK documentary symposium? Oh, it's just a bunch of cultural people getting together to chat and discuss 'documentary creation.' It has nothing to do with our economic work; it's a small matter."

He deliberately avoided the name "Hiroshi Nohara"—ever since Yoshihiro Shimazu used Hiroshi Nohara's "information cocoon" strategy to boost his approval rating, Mikami Tanaka deliberately downplayed the young man's presence in front of all the senior executives, for fear that the other party would perceive a threat.

“A trivial matter?” Saeki suddenly sneered, the embers of his cigar flickering in the dim light. “Tanaka-kun, you’ve been in the Tokyo City Council for ten years. Can’t you see that this symposium is not a ‘cultural chat’ at all? This is the result of power struggles at the top—quite a few top figures have already noticed that something is wrong with the economy.”

These words were like a bucket of cold water, instantly extinguishing the ease between Tanaka Mikami and Sato Tokugawa.

The smiles on their faces froze. They looked at each other and saw panic in each other's eyes.

Sato Tokugawa's thick hands gripped the tablecloth tightly, his voice trembling almost imperceptibly: "Your Excellency means... that the higher-ups are going to take action against the real estate market? There have indeed been rumors lately that the Ministry of Education is promoting a 'non-real estate economic transformation,' and has even mentioned learning from Hiroshi Nohara's 'A Bite of China,' supporting traditional crafts..."

"Supporting traditional crafts is true, but you're overthinking it when it comes to the real estate market," Saeki interrupted him, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "How big is the Tokyo real estate market right now? The total value of real estate in the entire Kanto region could buy half of the United States! How could the higher-ups possibly give up on such a booming economy?"

He stubbed out his cigar in the crystal ashtray, making a hissing sound, and his eyes sharpened: "You need to understand what the mainstay of Japan's economy is right now. It's real estate! It's the construction industry! It's the steel, cement, and home appliance industries that are derived from housing! If you touch the real estate market, how many companies will go bankrupt? How many people will lose their jobs? At that point, let alone surpassing the United States, it will be a question whether we can even maintain our current economic scale."

Tanaka Mikami's heart, which had been hanging in suspense, instantly settled. He secretly wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, and his tone became excited again: "You're right! I knew it! Real estate is our foundation, how can we just touch it? Look at the housing prices in Tokyo now, they're rising every month. Although ordinary people complain, they still feel that 'buying a house can preserve value,' which is proof of economic prosperity!"

Sato Tokugawa chimed in, his chubby face scrunched up: "That's right! Last month I just acquired an office building in Ginza, and the rent is 20% higher than last year. There are still many companies vying to rent it. As long as we continue to push up housing prices, we can not only make money, but also make people feel that 'life is getting better.' This is the safest development path."

Saeki looked at the two men's smug expressions, a hint of coldness flashing in his eyes.

He picked up the teacup in front of him, took a small sip of matcha, and his tone became calm again: "Your ideas are not wrong, but you should also pay attention to the degree. Recently, Ryuichi Koike has been promoting some kind of 'revival of traditional crafts,' and Yoshihiro Shimazu is still talking about 'controlling the real estate bubble.' Although these voices may not cause a big wave, they will affect the public's confidence."

He put down his teacup and tapped his fingers lightly on the table: "Tanaka-kun, as the mayor of Tokyo, you need to emphasize more publicly that 'real estate is the pillar of the economy' to reassure the public; Sato-kun, you need to speed up the projects you're handling and silence the dissenting voices with tangible 'prosperity.' As for that young man named Hiroshi Nohara..."

Saeki paused, his eyes becoming deep: "His documentaries are indeed quite interesting. They can draw public attention to traditional crafts and also help divert our attention from real estate. As long as he doesn't interfere in the economic field, you don't need to worry about him—he's a cultural figure, he can't cause any big waves."

Tanaka Mikami and Sato Tokugawa nodded hurriedly, completely relieved. They simultaneously raised their teacups and offered a respectful toast to Saeki: "Thank you for your guidance! We will certainly do as you say and will not let you down!"

“Hmm,” Saeki nodded slightly, his gaze returning to the documents on the table, “Now let’s talk about the Tokyo Bay project, regarding funding…”

The light from the gilded chandelier continued to flow through the room, the matcha on the long table gradually cooled, and the "prosperity" plan for Tokyo real estate was quietly being advanced in this secret meeting.

No one noticed that in the Tokyo night outside the window, between the neon-lit skyscrapers, the shadow of an impending economic bubble burst was already faintly visible.

Even after Saeki left, the atmosphere inside the Golden Pavilion remained lively.

Sato Tokugawa grabbed Tanaka Mikami and patted him on the shoulder with his thick hand, his voice full of excitement: "Mikami-kun, did you hear that? Lord Saeki said that real estate is the economic pillar, and the higher-ups will not give it up at all! All our previous worries were unnecessary!"

Tanaka Mikami's face also broke into a long-lost smile. He picked up his teacup and drank it all in one gulp. The bitterness of the matcha couldn't suppress his joy: "I knew it! All that talk about 'controlling the bubble' was just a gimmick by Koike Ryuichi! Now that we have Saeki-sama backing us up, we can go all out. I'll get your Tokyo Bay project approved by the city council as soon as possible, and regarding the demolition compensation..."

“Compensation?” Sato Tokugawa sneered, a glint of greed in his eyes. “Giving those residents of the old town a sum of money is already a favor! As long as we paint a picture of ‘new apartments after demolition,’ they’ll naturally move out obediently. The high-end apartments that will be built then can easily sell for hundreds of millions of yen each; why would they care about that little bit of compensation?”

Tanaka Mikami nodded, then frowned slightly, recalling Takahashi Kazuo's previous report: "However, there is something we need to be careful about. Although the NHK symposium is not a threat, Hiroshi Nohara's influence is growing. His 'A Bite of China' is not only popular with the public, but even Yuichi Miyazawa publicly praised him. If he helps Yoshihiro Shimazu promote 'real estate control' in the future, we will be in big trouble."

“What’s there to be afraid of?” Sato Tokugawa waved his hand dismissively. “He’s just a creative guy, what does he know about economics? Besides, we have a TV station in our hands—Tokyo TV is currently relying on Shinji Kamiki to keep it afloat, but as long as we’re willing to spend money, we can produce a program that’s even more popular than ‘A Bite of China’ and overshadow him.”

He paused, a glint of ruthlessness flashing in his eyes: "If all else fails, we can find some media outlets to expose his 'dirt.' For example, his 'Future Comics Club' might have tax evasion issues; and his relationship with Misae Koyama, a little hype will ruin his reputation. Can a young man really outmaneuver us?"

Tanaka Mikami shook his head, his tone cautious: "Don't be impulsive. Hiroshi Nohara is now tied to TV Tokyo, Nobuhiko Sakata and Asumi are protecting him, and Ryuichi Koike also admires him. If we touch him, we might get burned. The most important thing now is to do a good job with the real estate project. After the election, when Yoshihiro Shimazu is completely out of the running, it won't be too late to deal with him."

Sato Tokugawa thought about it and felt that it made sense, so he stopped worrying about Nohara Hiroshi.

He picked up the project report on the table, his finger sliding across the "profit forecast" column, a look of fascination on his face: "Once the Tokyo Bay project is completed, I will become the largest real estate developer in Japan. At that time, even Lord Saeki will have to give me some face. Mikami-kun, if you can be re-elected as mayor, we will be Tokyo's 'golden duo' from now on. Koike Ryuichi and Shimazu Yoshihiro will all have to step aside!"

Tanaka Mikami's eyes also became fervent. He looked out the window at the brightly lit Tokyo night view, as if he could already see himself after being re-elected as mayor, surrounded by real estate developers, announcing that "Tokyo has become the global economic center."

The two exchanged a smile, raised their teacups and clinked them together again, oblivious to the tea splashing over the rim—they were so engrossed in the impending "prosperity" that they were completely unaware that the economic bubble beneath their feet was quietly expanding and would burst at the slightest touch.

Meanwhile, inside TV Tokyo, Hiroshi Nohara had just finished his follow-up communication with Yuichi Miyazawa and was discussing the details of the filming plan for "The Taste Across Mountains and Seas" with Asumi and Toshihide Takada.

His office window faced the direction of the Kirin Group. He glanced at the lit-up rooftop building and frowned slightly. He didn't know that a secret meeting that would determine the direction of Tokyo's economy had just taken place there, but he could vaguely sense that a contest about economics and culture had just begun.

"Hiroshi-kun, what's wrong?" Asumi noticed his gaze and looked in the same direction. "Are you looking at the Kirin Group? Sato Tokugawa recently started a big project in Tokyo Bay. I heard he invested over a trillion yen at the beginning. He's got big ambitions."

Hiroshi Nohara looked away and shook his head slightly: "It's nothing, I just feel that the real estate market has been too frenzied lately."

He opened the planning manual, his eyes regaining their resolve.

No matter how the economic situation changes, he must do what he should do—to convey culture through true stories and connect people's hearts with warm works. This may be the best way to deal with the uncertainties of the future.

Moreover, Hiroshi Nohara's plan is almost complete!
(End of this chapter)