The Predicament of Cooking Master Boy

As night deepens, Tokyo's bustling cityscape is adorned with a dazzling sea of lights from countless homes outside the windows.

Nakayama Takuya had just finished a conference call with the North America development team and was enjoying a rare moment of peace with a cup of tea in hand.

The phone rang, breaking the silence of the office.

Takuya picked up the receiver, and a hissing sound came from the microphone, mixed with Eri's slightly tired and aggrieved voice.

"Hello?"

"Takuya-- "

With just two words, Takuya sensed something was wrong.

The "Eri Cooking Master Boy" project officially launched in Beijing, and Eri, as the person in charge, should have been at her most enthusiastic.

"What's wrong? You sound unhappy," Takuya asked gently.

The voice coming from Nakagawa Eri other end of the phone was slightly tired and aggrieved, no longer as energetic as it had been in Tokyo, but like a kitten that had been caught in the rain, making one feel sorry for it.

"Eri? Are you settling in well in Beijing?"

"I'm not used to it at all!"

Eri seemed to have found an outlet, and the frustration she had been building up for days exploded at once.

"The people here are so strange!"

"We're clearly here to collaborate, but they're incredibly polite on the surface," they call her "Ms. Nakagawa" and "Ms. Eri," their attitude so good you can't find a single fault with it.

"But when it comes to actual implementation, everything gets stuck!"

She took a deep breath and complained rapidly.

"We were supposed to film a pastry master today, but when we got to the set, they said, 'Oh dear, Section Chief Wang, who's in charge of publicity, isn't here today. We have to wait for his approval before we can film.'"

"We asked Section Chief Wang when he would arrive, and they just chuckled and said, 'Soon, soon,' but our entire team of dozens of people ended up waiting all afternoon in front of a pile of equipment!"

"Also, the cameras we brought from Japan need to be put into storage and have a label affixed, but the process has taken three days and it's still not finished! Everyone says, 'This isn't my responsibility,' and we're being passed around like a football!"

"I feel like I'm not here to be a producer, but a kindergarten teacher, managing a bunch of disobedient adults!"

Eri's voice was thick with nasal tone, clearly indicating that she was quite angry.

Takuya listened quietly without interrupting, waiting for her to finish pouring out all her grievances.

He could imagine that even Eri, who had been dealt with perfunctorily many times at TV Tokyo, was used to the efficiency-first, responsibility-clearly-assigned work style at the TV station.

How helpless and frustrated she must feel when faced with such a drastically different work culture.

"Thanks for your hard work."

After Eri finished speaking, Takuya spoke gently. His three simple words were like a warm current, instantly calming Eri's anxious heart.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, followed only by Eri's soft breathing.

"Am I... am I really that useless? I can't even handle this little thing." Her voice trailed off, filled with self-doubt.

"How could that be?" Takuya chuckled. "You just used the wrong map and were trying to walk in a straight line through the maze."

"A map?" Eri, somewhat puzzled.

"I have a question for you, Eri." Takuya's voice carried a strange guiding quality. "What is the core objective of our collaboration this time?"

"Of course, it's to make a well-made documentary that showcases the profound and extensive nature of Chinese cuisine!" Eri answered without hesitation.

This demonstrates her professionalism as a producer.

"No."

Takuya flatly rejected her.

That's a vague concept, not a concrete goal.

"Our core goal is to ensure that TV Tokyo's daytime slot airs a budget-friendly, high-quality program to attract housewives, boost ratings, and simultaneously increase the conversion rate of male viewers."

Eri was stunned on the other end of the phone.

"So--"

"So, whether the film is the 'best' or not is not important. Whether we can 'manage' the Chinese team well is also not important."

Takuya's voice was steady and clear, each word striking Eri's heart.

"The key question is whether we can obtain enough stock tapes that meet our style requirements within the scheduled timeframe and budget, and send them back to Tokyo."

"As for their internal processes, relationships between people, and who needs to be respected, those are their internal rules. Trying to understand their rules, or even trying to change them, is a mistake from the start."

Eri's breath hitched suddenly; she felt as if the tangled mess in her mind had been instantly severed by a sharp knife.

"What should I do?" Her voice held a hint of urgency and expectation.

"It's simple: delegate authority and give them money."

Takuya spoke as casually as if he were talking about something trivial.

"Find someone on their team who has influence and seems most eager to get things done, and make them 'one of us.'"

"Give your Chinese co-producers more autonomy and budget. For example, a flexible 'public relations coordination fee,' which can be recorded as 'venue rental surcharge' or 'logistics expenses.' The name doesn't matter; what matters is making things convenient for those involved. We don't care how their TV station spends this money. We only care about the results—how many shots they need to film each day and how much footage they need to deliver each week."

"As long as he completes our task on time, the money is his. The faster he finishes, the more he'll have left."

Eri, being incredibly clever, immediately grasped the key point, her cheeks flushing slightly. "This... this isn't..."

"This is lubricant," Takuya interrupted her. "That's how their machines work. If we try to tighten them with our wrenches, we'll just strip the screws. Adding some of their usual lubricant makes the machines run smoothly. It's adapting to local conditions; it's part of project management, very professional. Don't get the wrong idea."

His seemingly serious yet twisted logic made Eri burst out laughing, instantly easing the frustration in her heart.

"Don't judge them by our standards, Eri. Remember, we're here to buy things, not to be their management consultants and teach them how to improve efficiency."

"It's like you're going to buy groceries. The market is crowded and chaotic, and the rules are messy, but your goal is just to buy the freshest vegetables, not to bring order to the market."

"Furthermore," Takuya continued, "We can even spare some of our expensive film. If they want to shoot some footage we don't need, like leadership inspections or group photos, then let them shoot it. How much would that extra film cost? What about the labor and accommodation costs for our team waiting an extra day at the hotel? What a huge loss it would be if the program's broadcast was delayed? Using the cheapest cost to improve our filming schedule—it's a worthwhile deal no matter how you look at it."

"You can even tell them explicitly that once the film is finished, we'll take the master tape, but we can leave them a copy. They can edit it into the version they need and broadcast it domestically, and we won't interfere. This way, they'll have something to report to their superiors, which will definitely be very attractive to their TV station, and they'll naturally cooperate fully with us."

"This-.

Eri was completely speechless.

She felt that all her previous worries and struggles were so simple in the face of Takuya's wisdom in understanding human nature and rules.

"Takuya— " After a long while, Eri finally found her voice, her tone filled with incredulous admiration, "You—you are truly a genius."

These problems had been bothering her and her team for several days, but Takuya solved them clearly and concisely in just a few words.

"I'm just thick-skinned," Takuya joked, his tone softening again. "Don't put too much pressure on yourself. Remember, I've got your back."

This simple sentence reassured Eri more than any solution.

"Because you're my girlfriend."

The words "my girlfriend" made Eri's cheeks flush instantly, and an indescribable sweetness and pride welled up in her heart.

All the grievances and troubles from before vanished at this moment.

This man will always be her strongest support, a lighthouse that can clear away all the fog for her.

"I know what to do!" Eri's voice regained its strength and confidence. "Thank you, Takuya!"

"Take care of yourself, don't overwork yourself," Takuya gently reminded him. "I'll be waiting for your good news."

"Um!"

After hanging up the phone, Eri gripped the receiver tightly, feeling a surge of energy coursing through her body.

She turned to look at the unfamiliar night view of Beijing outside the window. This time, her eyes were no longer confused, but filled with determination and expectation.