Chapter 60: Welcome To Tokyo! Uncle!
Ginza, a branch of the restaurant “Kikunoi,” in the elegant private room, the air floated with the faint fragrance of high-grade incense.
“So, Uncle, have you been watching some weird eight o’clock family ethics drama lately?”
Hiroshi Nohara’s face carried a somewhat wronged helpless smile as he personally poured a cup of warm sake for Yoshiharu Oyama: “My father is Ginnosuke Nohara, my mother is Tsuru Nohara, our family is in Omagari City, Akita Prefecture, just an ordinary family. I’m really not some important person’s illegitimate child.”
His tone was as sincere as a self-introduction in elementary school, so pure it could squeeze out water.
It was just laced with a bit of teasing.
“Father! How can you think that about Hiroshi-kun?!” Misae Nohara on the side finally found her chance, puffing up her cheeks like a little squirrel guarding its food, launching a complaint at her own old man: “Hiroshi-kun works so hard, struggling alone in Tokyo, drawing manga and working at the television station, so busy every day! How can you… how can you slander him out of nowhere!”
By the end, her big watery eyes were misting over with a thin layer of fog, half from anger, half from heartache.
Illegitimate child is not a good term in neon.
“Cough!” Yoshiharu Oyama was topped by his daughter’s words, his old face turning red, that face as cold and hard as winter rocks in Kumamoto Prefecture now couldn’t hold up.
He picked up his beer mug, wanting to mask his embarrassment with a sip of spicy liquid, but felt it improper to touch his cup first in front of his future son-in-law, losing the elder’s decorum.
He could only keep a straight face, using the dean of students’ unique authority, sternly scolding: “I… I was just making a reasonable inference! How could a young person just out of school possibly…”
He couldn’t continue.
Because the corner of his eye had already glimpsed the sliding door carved from a whole piece of cypress wood in this private room, glimpsed the landscape painting on the wall said to be the true work of some famous artist, and the meticulously maintained small and exquisite zen garden outside the window.
All of this, in a silent yet extremely clear way, repeatedly slapped his outdated worldview built on “thrifty housekeeping” and “following the rules.”
This was obviously Hiroshi Nohara’s way of showing him respect!
He, Yoshiharu Oyama, was not ungrateful.
At this moment.
How could he continue speaking?
“Father, just admit it, you’re jealous that Hiroshi-kun is more capable than you!” Misae pressed relentlessly.
“Nonsense!” Yoshiharu Oyama blew his beard and glared, the bit of appreciation that had just risen for his future son-in-law instantly washed away by his daughter’s blunt truth.
As a father, he had to maintain his authority!
And he was the prospective father-in-law too!
“Alright, alright, Misae, don’t fuss with your father.” Mother Takao Oyama stepped in to mediate, looking at her own daughter and that young man with a doting smile, her eyes full of gratification.
She gently patted Misae’s hand, then gave Hiroshi Nohara an apologetic look, smiling: “Hiroshi-kun, don’t mind, Yoshiharu is just like that, stubborn mouth but soft heart.”
“Mother is right, Father is just an old stubborn.” Big sister Masae also gently chimed in, looking at her little sister radiant with love-nourished glow, feeling happy for her in her heart.
“I don’t mind, this is just Uncle’s humor.” Hiroshi Nohara chuckled lightly on the side.
While personally pouring tea for them.
Only little sister Mogae was like a curious baby who stumbled into the Grand View Garden, her big round eyes not enough to take it all in.
She touched the tatami woven from high-grade sedge grass beneath her one moment, then leaned to the window the next, exclaiming “sugoi” at the small yet extremely exquisite zen garden built inside the building.
“Wow! This place is just too amazing!”
She cupped her face with both hands, her youthful face full of undisguised envy: “This is real Tokyo! We don’t even have a decent department store in Kumamoto, let alone a high-class restaurant like this!”
“Cough! Cough cough!” Yoshiharu Oyama was choked by his little daughter’s worldly words, coughing violently.
Embarrassing! Too embarrassing!
And in front of the future son-in-law!
He glared fiercely at Mogae, lowering his voice to scold: “Don’t talk while eating, don’t talk while sleeping! Act like a young lady from a good family!”
‘Whoosh—’
At that moment, the private room’s cypress sliding door was gently slid open.
“Sorry to interrupt! It’s time to serve the dishes!”
A female server in a kimono, with elegant posture and an impeccable professional smile, knelt at the doorway, followed by a line of young maids also in kimonos.
They entered like a flock of geese in formation, holding exquisite lacquer trays, silently placing dish after dish like artworks, filling the entire long table.
“Wow—!!!”
This time, it wasn’t just Mogae exclaiming.
Suddenly, the long dining table was occupied by a dazzling array of gourmet food.
Translucent Ise lobster sashimi still slightly quivering, artfully arranged in a dragon boat shape; top-grade A5 Saga wagyu beef with marble-like even snowflake marbling, reflecting enticing oil gloss under the lighting; luxurious sashimi assortment of toro tuna, sea urchin, and Botan shrimp, so fresh it seemed to carry the sea’s breath.
Besides that, French escargot, black truffle foie gras, cream of mushroom soup…
Japanese and French top cuisines, in an extremely harmonious yet extremely luxurious way, staging a gourmet feast that would drive any foodie mad.
“This… this is just too…”
Mother Takao Oyama looked at the table full of delicacies, her eyes always meticulous with planning showing a hint of panic for the first time: “Hiroshi-kun, this… how much does this cost? Too extravagant, really too extravagant!”
“Yeah, Hiroshi-kun, a simple set meal would be fine for us.” Big sister Masae also chimed in, looking at those high-end ingredients rarely seen even on television, mentally calculating the price.
Then her meager teacher’s salary was trembling.
Even Yoshiharu Oyama was wide-eyed.
His dean of students’ sharp gaze now only held shock. Because in his life, he had never seen such a grand setup!
“Everyone, eat freely, it’s just a little gesture from me.” Hiroshi Nohara wore a gentle smile, looking at Misae’s family’s shocked expressions, the vanity in his heart as a man greatly satisfied.
“This is specially prepared by Hiroshi-kun for everyone.”
Misae puffed out her little chest, her flushed little face full of proud glory: “He said he must use the highest standards to welcome my most important family.”
At her words, Takao Oyama and Masae’s faces instantly filled with touched emotions.
Even Yoshiharu Oyama’s rock-like face showed a faint, imperceptible softening.
But Hiroshi Nohara’s performance wasn’t over yet.
Like a magician, he pulled out exquisitely wrapped gifts one by one from the several pricey-looking shopping bags beside him.
“Uncle.” He presented the antique wooden box with both hands to Yoshiharu Oyama: “Knowing you like a drink or two, this is Juyondai Ryusen I asked a friend to get, not much but with respect.”
Yoshiharu Oyama’s pupils suddenly contracted.
Juyondai!
The legendary Ryusen!
Though just a local civil servant, he knew sake well. This bottle had been hyped to sky-high prices on the market, a phantom famous sake you couldn’t buy even with money!
Like Feitian Moutai in Huaxia before the alcohol ban.
Beyond the category of ‘sake.’
Taking it out showed it.
This meant respect!
Yoshiharu Oyama wanted to refuse, to say “too valuable,” but his hands on his knees trembled uncontrollably, his gaze like iron filings drawn to a magnet, stuck dead on the wooden box before him, unable to shift.
“Aunt.”
Hiroshi Nohara handed an exquisite cake box marked “Wako” to Takao Oyama: “Misae said you like sweets, this is the seasonal limited edition from Ginza Wako’s main store today, white strawberry mille-feuille.”
“Oh! Wako’s limited edition!” Takao Oyama let out a suppressed gasp, her always gentle eyes bursting with a young girl’s surprise and radiance.
“Masae-nee, this is for you.” A set of Shiseido’s top “The Ginza” skincare line was handed to big sister Masae.
“Mogae, this is yours.” A latest model Chanel lipstick and a Dior five-color eyeshadow palette were handed to little sister Mogae.
In an instant, the entire private room filled with successive suppressed gasps of surprise.
The three women of the Oyama family were thoroughly melted by this precise and luxurious gift offensive, their faces beaming with heartfelt joy.
Only Yoshiharu Oyama remained stiff, engaged in the last struggle of a stubborn old father.
He looked at his daughters’ ecstatic faces, his wife’s blooming smile, and that young man who had only calmly smiled throughout.
He felt his fortress built of “rules,” “tradition,” and “dignity” crumbling inch by inch under this young man’s sugar-coated cannonballs.
He opened his mouth, wanting to say something to salvage the situation.
“Cough! Um… Hiroshi-kun…”
He finally couldn’t resist the temptation of that “Juyondai,” speaking in a tone near surrender.
He wanted to say, kid, too extravagant, we’re family now, no need to be so polite.
But when it reached his lips, it became—
“Um… 《An Shizhi》 season three, will there be more?”
After asking, he himself was stunned.
Hiroshi Nohara was also slightly taken aback, then his face bloomed with a brilliant smile.
“Of course, Uncle.” He picked up that bottle of “Juyondai,” personally opening it and filling Yoshiharu Oyama’s beer mug, the clear sake fragrance instantly spreading.
“As long as you want to watch, it will never end.” Hiroshi Nohara held up his beer mug with both hands: “Welcome to Tokyo! Uncle!”
“Mm.” Yoshiharu Oyama looked at the clear liquid in his cup, listening to words more moving than any promise, his rock-hard cold face finally, thoroughly, irreparably… completely shattered.
He raised his beer mug, gently clinking with Hiroshi Nohara’s.
A crisp “ding.”
Like a war ending with the final bell of reconciliation.
‘Wow, this sake is so fragrant!’ Yoshiharu Oyama maintained his last facial expression, but inside was delighted: “Phantom famous sake! Juyondai Ryusen! I finally got to drink it! Gotta show off to those village dogs back home what Tokyo sake is!”
