The next day, Takuya Nakayama stood in front of an elegant traditional Japanese-style ho and took a deep breath.
In his hand was a gift bag carefully prepared and selected by his mother, Miyuki Nakayama.
He straightened his collar and pressed the doorbell.
The one who opened the door was Eri Nakagawa.
She was dressed in a soft, cozy sweater today. When she saw Takuya, her eyes lit up with joy before a hint of nervousness followed. "You're here," she said quietly, stepping aside to let him in.
At the entrance, just as Takuya changed into house slippers, a graceful and kind-looking woman approached with a warm smile—Eri's mother, Takako Nakagawa.
"Oh my, you must be Takuya! Please, co in. Eri talks about you all the ti," she said while accepting the gift from his hands. "You didn't need to bring anything—just your presence is enough."
Though her words were polite, the approving sparkle in her eyes revealed a mother's satisfaction with her daughter's choice.
Handso, polite, and well-mannered—her daughter's taste was impeccable.
Takuya bowed slightly and followed the mother and daughter into the living room.
On the main sofa sat a middle-aged man with an air of authority, holding a newspaper. It was none other than Jun Nakagawa, president of Tokyo Television.
He had cleared his entire schedule that day for this eting—a father determined to scrutinize the man who might share his daughter's life.
Though the Nakayama family background was impeccable, when it ca to his only daughter's happiness, Jun believed in judging with his own eyes.
Especially since his daughter—so ambitious and strong-willed—wasn't exactly easygoing. Could she truly find comfort in a traditional, high-status household?
Takuya bowed respectfully, presenting the gifts he had brought.
The ones for Mr. and Mrs. Nakagawa had been handpicked by his mother—elegant and faultless.
And for Eri, he had prepared a small personal gift.
Eri took the little gift bag curiously and peeked inside. Three plush chibi figures stared back at her—mini versions of the legendary Johto trio: Entei, Raikou, and Suicune.
"Wow!" Eri's eyes sparkled. Overjoyed, she hugged the plushies to her chest and—without a second thought—plopped down right next to Takuya on the couch.
The closeness made Jun's eyebrow twitch almost imperceptibly.
His precious little girl… already sitting so comfortably beside this boy?
He felt a pang of fatherly jealousy but kept his expression composed, studying Takuya calmly.
Takako chuckled and tugged at her daughter's sleeve. "Alright, Eri, stop playing and co help prepare lunch."
"Huh? But…" Eri hesitated, clearly worried her father might make things hard for Takuya. She cast anxious glances back as she was pulled away.
"You silly girl," Takako whispered teasingly into her ear, causing Eri's cheeks to flush bright red before she stomped lightly and followed her mother to the kitchen.
Now only Takuya and his future father-in-law remained in the living room.
The air felt noticeably heavier.
Jun Nakagawa studied the young man. Though nervous, Takuya sat upright, his gaze steady and sincere.
Jun's stern expression softened slightly.
He finally spoke, his tone asured and calm. "Eri's been spoiled since childhood. Her mother and I were always busy, so she grew up independent—and stubborn. When she joined the TV station, she insisted on proving herself, refusing to be just a 'na on the credits.' That's why I let her take charge of her own show. I hope you'll be patient with her."
It was a statent disguised as concern—but truly a test.
Takuya understood instantly.
He straightened his posture and replied earnestly, "Sir, please don't worry. I've seen how talented and hardworking Eri is. I love not only who she is in life but also the way she shines in her work."
"In my view, marriage isn't a cage—it's a partnership between two individuals who lift each other up. Her career is sothing I deeply admire, and I'll always support her dreams."
He paused, then added, "When two people share the sa passions and ambitions, harmony naturally follows. And I promise to always make ti for her."
It was a flawless, heartfelt answer.
The sharpness in Jun's eyes faded a little.
This young man wasn't just successful—he had emotional intelligence to match.
Jun nodded slightly and changed topics. "I'm quite optimistic about The Taste of China."
As the network president, he knew the ratings by heart.
"The show's performance is impressive, and the 'recipe recreation' segnt has fantastic product conversion rates. Sponsors are lining up to get in—afraid they'll be left out."
"Eri ntioned you made so clever production suggestions that improved efficiency and cut costs."
Takuya smiled modestly. "Just small tweaks, nothing worth ntioning."
"Solving problems is ability," Jun replied.
"But I do have a concern. A show like The Taste of China—how long can it last? Even with so many regional dishes, the well will run dry eventually. I'd say, at this pace, the show has maybe six months left."
That was both a producer's practical concern and a father's protective worry.
Takuya pondered for a mont before asking, "Sir, may I ask—what's your view on the current economy?"
Jun instantly caught the aning.
The stock market was crashing, consur spending was shrinking—soon, families would be tightening their belts.
Who would have the ti or money to fuss over elaborate gourt recipes?
"You an—"
"Exactly." Takuya nodded. "When people start cutting costs, their priorities shift. Viewers will care less about how to eat well and more about how to eat cheap but still tasty. We could keep the studio kitchen but shift the show's the—from The Taste of China to The Great Savings Battle."
Jun's eyes lit up. "Go on."
"We invite everyday homakers or celebrity guests, give them a small budget—say, 3,000 yen—and a limited ti to shop for dinner ingredients at a supermarket."
"To emphasize thrift and creativity, they must buy at least two discounted, near-expiry items."
"When it's ti to check out, whoever's total is closest to the budget wins an advantage—like removing one key ingredient from their opponent's basket, or forcing them to cook with one of their expired items!"
Takuya grew more animated as he spoke, vividly imagining the hilarious cooking chaos.
"The cooking round will be the codic core. Two contestants battling to make a decent al out of odd, mismatched ingredients—it'll be hilarious! Then, live audience mbers can taste and vote for the winner."
"This way, the show gains competition, humor, and relatability. And with supermarkets joining as sponsors, production costs stay low while audience engagent skyrockets."
Jun Nakagawa looked at Takuya with genuine admiration.
This young man hadn't just identified the show's limits—he had anticipated the coming shift in social trends and found the perfect pivot.
After a long mont, Jun exhaled deeply and leaned back in his chair, smiling. "No wonder Eri praises your talent so much. I thought she was exaggerating—but it seems she's been too modest."
His gaze now held full approval instead of scrutiny.
Taking a sip of tea, Jun continued, as if making a decision. "If Eri marries you, I can rest easy. Still, even with your support, she'll need help balancing work and life. When it cos to the network, I'll be counting on you as well."
This wasn't just a blessing—it was a passing of the torch.
Takuya nodded solemnly. "I'll take that responsibility seriously, sir."
Jun smiled at last, his expression softening entirely.
He looked at Takuya and saw not just his daughter's fiancé—but Tokyo Television's promising future.
Just then, Takako's gentle voice called from the dining room. "Dinner's ready!"
They moved to the dining room, where a long table was set with a beautifully arranged homade al.
There weren't many dishes, but each one reflected care and thoughtfulness.
As they sat down, Eri grinned playfully at Takuya. "Takuya-kun, guess which dish I made?"
Takuya scanned the table—simred vegetables, tempura, sashimi—all classic Japanese fare. Then his gaze stopped on one dish: a neatly sliced tamagoyaki roll, its golden spirals hiding a reddish filling that looked like shredded pork and bamboo shoots.
He tilted his head, thought for a mont, then smiled confidently. "If I had to guess… this one."
Eri and her mother both looked surprised.
"Huh? How did you guess it right the first ti?" she asked, pouting.
"Your mother's cooking is classic Kansai style—simple, elegant, and mild," Takuya explained. "But when I entered the house, I slled sothing distinct—sweet, sour, spicy, and salty all at once. Not a common Japanese aroma. Only this dish matches that complexity. Bold, creative—just like you."
He paused, then added with a grin, "If I'm not mistaken, that flavor is called yuxiang—so this must be a 'Yuxiang Pork Tamagoyaki Roll,' right?"
Even Jun raised his brows at that.
Eri's eyes widened. "You even know yuxiang? I learned this from a Sichuan chef when I was in China! There's not a single authentic Sichuan place in Tokyo—how did you recognize it?"
"Years ago, on a business trip to Hong Kong," Takuya said casually, "our partners took to a private kitchen run by a retired Sichuan master. I never forgot that taste. I didn't expect you to combine it with tamagoyaki—it's brilliant."
Smooth and natural—praise with the perfect touch of sincerity.
Jun picked up a slice and took a bite. The sweetness of the egg softened the spiciness of the sauce, while the savory pork and crisp bamboo created a perfect balance.
He nodded slowly, pleased. "To blend foreign influence into tradition—that's not just good cooking. That's good business sense, too. Well done, Eri."
Dinner continued in a warm, lively atmosphere.
Takuya was witty but respectful, sharp but never arrogant. Whether discussing world economics or local news, he found just the right tone to keep the conversation flowing.
Afterward, they returned to the living room for tea. Jun, still impressed, couldn't help but share Takuya's Great Savings Battle concept with his wife and daughter.
"Limited budget, racing for expiring items, sabotaging each other—can you believe this guy ca up with that?"
Eri and Takako were both stunned before breaking into laughter and admiration.
Eri, the producer that she was, imdiately recognized its massive potential.
She gave Takuya a playful glare mixed with awe. "Dad, that's nothing. He already gave an even bigger idea before."
"Oh?" Jun's curiosity sparked again.
"It's called Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?," Eri said, half-proud, half-regretful. "It's a grand concept—needs a high-tech studio, intricate lighting systems, and a massive question database. The prize is one million yen! But the upfront investnt is enormous. Before the show becos a hit, getting sponsors will be tough. I thought I'd wait until I had more seniority before pitching it."
She pouted. "And now he's already co up with another brilliant one."
"Who Wants to Be a Millionaire??"
Jun instantly sat up, eyes sharp.
A show linked to the dream of becoming a millionaire—just the na could sweep the nation.
"Where's the proposal? Bring it to right now!" he ordered, excitent slipping through his normally calm deanor.
"Jeez, you and your—" Takako began, half-amused, as the scene faded into laughter and motion, the future seemingly bright for all three of them.
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