I teach middle school, but it's a minor subject, so I'm not very busy.

When I don't have any classes, I can sneak back home.

I also offer to help out at the bun shop, but my parents-in-law never ask me to.

But I can't act like a bigshot either, since my nephew's wedding will cost them a lot of money.

Actually, when I go to the shop, I mostly just stand there and collect money. They never let me chop the stuffing or make the buns.

I thought it was because my parents-in-law cherished me and didn't want me to work. I secretly felt I had married into the right family.

The bun shop closes every afternoon, and the three of them go back to the villa to sleep.

After dinner, the three of them go back to the bun shop to prepare things for the next day. The pork and vegetables are delivered on time by specialized vendors.

One day, some neighbor aunties saw me and said our buns were so delicious and asked how to make the stuffing. They wanted to know a little so they could make it at home.

I said blankly that I had never chopped the stuffing or even seen them make it.

They also said, look at this young wife, just a few months after marrying in, she's already so loyal to her in-laws, keeping the recipe so tightly guarded.

"Secret recipe?" I thought, if my very ordinary brother could get the recipe for making buns, open a bun shop in town, and be self-sufficient, I would have face in this family.

Around 11 o'clock at night, my husband Zhang Yi came home exhausted.

He sat on the edge of the bed, and I quickly went over to massage his shoulders.

"Our buns are so delicious, how do you make the stuffing?" I asked softly while massaging his shoulders.

"Dad went out of the province to apprentice with someone when I was a few years old," my husband said casually, pulling me into his arms.

"Can my brother learn the recipe? So he can open a shop in town..." I hadn't finished when he pushed me onto the bed.

He stood up, grabbed my shoulders with both hands, stared into my eyes, and said fiercely, "You can spend money as you like, but learning the recipe, don't even think about it."

Oh, come on, what a miser.

I was just saying, my brother might not even want to open a bun shop, even if they offered.

We never mentioned the secret recipe again.

The preparation work for the buns, like chopping the stuffing, was always done by the three of them from seven to ten in the evening.

During that time, our school occasionally held teaching conferences. Even if there wasn't a meeting, I had to prepare for the next day's classes. Anyway, I never went to the shop at night.