Shang Qinghua deciding like five minutes after he's been made head disciple of An Ding that he's gotta do something about these insane ancient-y fashion standards. He is NOT spending hours getting ready every morning he has shit to do that isn't arranging his hair and robes, okay?
So he just starts unabashedly experimenting with anything he thinks might work. Xianxia velcro. Hair elastics. Zippers. Outfits that have been stitched together to look like they have layers when they actually don't. He shares these secret techniques with An Ding Peak only because they need all the advantages they can get. That's two more hours for emergency bullshit management and/or sleep than the other peaks can feasibly expect them to have, you better believe not a single disciple on that peak is even tempted to break the gag order about their wardrobe protocols.
It gets to be so standard that Shang Qinghua completely forgets about it until one day when Shen Qingqiu hears him undo a zipper pocket and immediately recognizes the sound, and two seconds later is beating Airplane to a pulp for leaving him out of the loop.