It was Tuesday, and Takuya was unusually having lunch at the Nakayama family estate.
His mother, Miyuki Nakayama, was busy in the kitchen. Seeing her son still at ho at this hour, she looked a little surprised.
"Why aren't you at the company today?" she asked.
Takuya smiled. "Eri's show is premiering today. She made promise to watch it live."
He turned on the TV in the dining room, switched to TV Tokyo, and sat cross-legged on the tatami mat.
Hearing that, Miyuki's movents lightened noticeably. As she worked, she leaned out from the open kitchen, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. Her future daughter-in-law's first ti leading a production—of course, as a future mother-in-law, she had to take a good look.
At exactly noon, the Tokyo TV dayti drama segnt ended, and a brand-new program began.
After an opening filled with rich Chinese-style music, four bold characters appeared on the screen: "Cooking Master China."
The first episode featured Huaiyang cuisine, focusing on a national banquet dish called Kirin Stead Fish.
The cara glided through misty Jiangnan gardens—classical pavilions and winding corridors—accompanied by elegant string music and a male narrator with perfect enunciation, instantly elevating the mood.
Then, an elderly master chef appeared, his posture graceful and calm. Speaking in heavily accented Mandarin, he introduced the origins and spirit of the dish.
As he spoke, his hands worked steadily—cleaning a live sea bass, slicing it into perfectly even fillets.
Between the fish slices, he layered thin pieces of Jinhua ham, bamboo shoots, and shiitake mushrooms, arranging them neatly into the shape of a mythical kirin's scales. Just watching made one's mouth water.
The program thoughtfully included clear Japanese subtitles and even invited a few codians and food critics to comnt in the studio.
They watched intently, their exclamations filling the air:
"Wow, those fish slices are thinner than paper!"
"Unbelievable! I didn't know fish could be cooked like this!"
"Ham from Yancheng? What kind of flavor is that?"
"I bet the key's in the steaming ti—one second too long or too short ruins everything!"
Their dramatic guesses kept getting proven wrong by the chef's next move, creating a fun contrast between their reactions and the chef's stoic professionalism. What could have been a dry cooking docuntary turned into a delightfully entertaining show.
When the steaming hot Kirin Stead Fish was finally plated, the aroma seed to fill even Miyuki's kitchen. She swallowed instinctively.
After the docuntary segnt, the screen switched to a bright, modern studio.
"Now for the mont you've all been waiting for—the ho cooking challenge!" announced the host enthusiastically.
The cara zood in on the open kitchen set. Every pot, spice bottle, and towel was clearly branded.
Miyuki squinted. "Hmm? Why is that soy sauce bottle's label so big?"
Takuya laughed. "That's product placent, Mom. The sponsors make those labels bigger on purpose so viewers like you can spot them easily."
"Ah, clever. Everything's a business opportunity these days," Miyuki said, impressed, before turning her attention back to the screen.
In the show, a well-known ho-cooking expert demonstrated a simplified version using ingredients easily found in Japanese supermarkets—sea bream instead of bass, enoki mushrooms instead of bamboo shoots—guiding viewers step by step through making a "ho-style Kirin Stead Fish."
When the final step ca—pouring a ladle of sizzling hot oil over the fish, adding soy sauce, and sprinkling bonito flakes—the rich fragrance seed to burst right through the TV screen.
The guests in the studio tasted it, their faces lighting up with joy.
"It might not match the master's flavor exactly, but this would definitely amaze your family at ho!"
"Totally! I'm trying this tomorrow night!"
Even Miyuki, who prided herself on her cooking, couldn't help thinking, That actually doesn't look too hard…
Takuya noticed her reaction and knew instantly—Eri's show was a success.
Grinning, he picked up the phone on the dining table and dialed a number in Guangzhou.
After a few minutes of background chatter, Eri's assistant passed the phone to her.
"Takuya?" ca her slightly breathless voice, tinged with excitent.
"It's ," he said, smiling. "I just watched the show. It's fantastic."
"Really?" she asked quickly. "You think the audience will like it?"
"My mom's sitting right next to and already talking about trying the recipe herself," Takuya said, then turned and called out toward the kitchen, "Hey Mom, your future daughter-in-law wants to know if you liked the show!"
"Ah—!" ca a startled yelp from the other end, followed by silence. Takuya could almost see her blushing and flustered expression.
Miyuki, laughing, ca out of the kitchen and took the receiver from her son.
"Eri, dear? This is Aunt Miyuki," she said kindly.
"H-hello, Auntie!" Eri stamred, nervous but sweet.
"Don't listen to Takuya's teasing," Miyuki said warmly. "But really, you did a wonderful job. I enjoyed it so much I want to try making it myself! Next ti you're back in Tokyo, you must co over for dinner. I'll cook you a proper ho al. You've been working so hard—make sure you take care of yourself, alright?"
"Yes, Auntie! Thank you so much!" Eri replied, voice soft but brimming with emotion.
Pleased, Miyuki chatted with her for several more minutes, asking about her daily life and health, before letting her get back to work on post-production edits.
When she hung up, Miyuki turned to her son with a serious expression.
"She's such a lovely girl, Takuya. You'd better treat her right, understand?"
"I know, I know," Takuya said, raising his hands in mock surrender.
Satisfied, Miyuki smiled and returned to the kitchen, humming as she prepared lunch—the familiar tune of Sakamoto Kyu's "Look Up at the Stars."
Takuya sighed and smiled helplessly. He knew that song well—it ant his mother was already planning an elaborate ho-cooked feast… for her future daughter-in-law.
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