On the airport apron of Kyoto International Airport, a large number of black luxury cars accompanied by a tall military jeep stood in a row, each with a cheerful face, discussing the future daily life arrangements of the minister.

When Yi Qingchen Huai and Chu Qiao came down the boarding ladder, a crowd rushed around them.

"How was the journey? Are there any unused places? Song Mei said as she stuffed a small paper bag into Chu Qiao's hand, "This is the sour plum from the old pot of Jiulongzhai. We used to rely on this pregnancy reaction when we were pregnant."

"Thank you, Uncle and Aunt."

Old Master Yi...