It was impossible for anyone to remember every little quirk of this setting. There were too many. Also, Shang Qinghua had come up with some of them on a whim while fueled by nothing but caffeine and noodles. It wasn't his fault for not remembering why oranges were never served on fruit festival day.

The thought had been niggling at the back of his mind quite a bit lately. He wasn’t showing Shang Qinghua proper obeisance, was he? They’d grown so comfortable in their roles - Mobei-Jun as Shang Qinghua’s king, and Shang Qinghua as his dutiful servant - that they hadn’t thought to… stop. It was how it had always been. But things were different, now, weren’t they? They’d been different for a long time now. To ignore that wasn’t proper. That stops now, Mobei-Jun decides. His ancestors would be rolling in their graves to see him ignore the proper rites of courtship - the fact that he and Shang Qinghua were already mated besides. He was not raised to be some kind of country rube, as much as being sequestered so far up north might imply otherwise. Shang Qinghua was his partner, and, with all factors properly calculated, the more powerful of the two. It was only proper that Mobei-Jun display an appropriate level of submission to his better. -- Mobei-Jun realizes with increasing clarity that he wants to serve Shang Qinghua. Shang Qinghua does NOT pick up on it.

"It was a plot point, dude," says Cucumber-bro, in the slow, patient voice of someone speaking to a stupid dog. "It was an actual, literal plot point you typed in with your own like, sinful hands." "No it wasn't," says Shang Qinghua immediately. "I think I would like, fucking remember writing a scene where some chick gets an actual fucking dragon corpse dropped on her door and immediately gives it up for the person who brought it!"