Thirty eight days left. Jiang Cheng felt frustrated. Their time was running out like the river over which he worked every day, its currents racing like his thoughts. He had been working constantly for a week now with no rest, just the threat of drinking with his work colleagues hanging over him.

This wild group of men liked their wine and liquor, often passing out, completely inebriated. They invited him every time, and he was running out of excuses.

Jiang Cheng could hold his drink. There was absolutely no problem with that. He and Wei WuXian had spent long nights competing, although he was always the first to succumb. However, amongst these strangers, he was on high alert. He had to be.

So drinking was out, if he wanted to keep his secrets.

So far, he had seen Min Qi Xue twice, both from a distance. Sure enough, he wore a scar that slashed his face from above his left eye, across his nose to his cheek. Jiang Cheng felt quite proud of that. Wei WuXian had told him he couldn't kill him either, because of two reasons. He only knew one: if Min Qi Xue dies, the location of a hundred and eight dragons would die with him.

Jiang Cheng wondered if Min Qi Xue was actually looking after the dragons in the first place, since he didn't seem to be the warm, nurturing type, but then, it probably wouldn't do to have your sacrifices die before their time.

He had been worrying that Min Qi Xue was cleverer than they had given him credit for, and what if he spent a moment too long examining his face? What if he recognized him? But soon his fears were put to rest; Min Qi Xue only spared him a passing glance while he spoke to the foreman. Apparently, their latest directions were to get the bridge built in two weeks.

What was happening in two weeks? He wondered. Thirty eight days was just over a month. So what could they be preparing for?

Every night, faithfully and without fail, Jiang Cheng sent out the crane messages, his heart gleefully happy with relief that they became transparent and so were undetectable.

Ling Shang Po had taken him under his wing, introducing him to his friends and making sure he was included in everything. For that, Jiang Cheng felt grateful and a teeny bit guilty, because he was, for all sense and purposes, lying to people who were quickly becoming his friends.

Jiang Cheng had seen Ling Shang Po sharing a few brief conversations with Min Qi Xue, so in that, he counted himself lucky. This new friendship would be useful in catapulting him into Min Qi Xue's inner circle. He just wished it could happen faster.

Long nights were spent sleeping due to exertion, but sometimes he had trouble relaxing. On those occasions, his thoughts travelled like an arrow to his fiance. What was XiChen doing now? Was he alright? How was he too, coping with their separation? Thinking about the ring, which he hadn't seen yet, too precious to waste on a maybe, but he could imagine putting his ring where it belonged: on the third finger of a special hand. Soon, they would be able to wear their rings out in the open, to show the world how they felt. These thoughts often lulled him to the blissful oblivion of slumber.

One big problem Jiang Cheng had encountered was the furnaces. The nails and divots used on the bridge were made by hand, so blacksmith fires were constantly restocked with wood. His friend, Ling Shang Po was in charge of the timber, and the leftovers of that wood went straight to the furnace room.

The furnace room was hot. And this heat could potentially melt his facial disguise. He had only noticed because on one such trip, transferring the wood from one site to the other, he had felt something wet drip down his face. Assuming it was sweat and totally forgetting that he was wearing a covering, he had swiped at it. The action was completely regrettable. He had hidden for the rest of the day until he could fix it at night.

The second problem was water. Obviously, they worked all day, in hot temperatures, and they sweated. His tattoo didn't like water at all. So his showers were always with one arm in the air, hoping nobody would walk in and catch him.

He was lost in his thoughts when they sat down to eat, so the smack on his back felt extra jarring. He bit his tongue in an effort to control the sudden rage, and smile at the offending person instead, who took a step back in alarm. Maybe his smile wasn't as convincing as he wanted it to be.

"Tonight!" Another voice said, next to him. "We will not let you off. We are all going to play a game."

They dragged him to a tavern just outside the town centre, and they all sat around a single table. Drinks were poured, toasts made again and again. Jiang Cheng had survived before by discreetly throwing his drink on the floor, but too many people were surrounding him tonight. Too many eyes watching him.

He was feeling the stress of the moment, combined with that of the past few weeks, and since they were not allowing him to toss his liquor, there was only one other place it could go.

Afterwards, he remembered very little. Someone had kindly taken him back to his bamboo mat and given him water.

And that voice telling him, just before he passed out.

"The Boss has a special job for you tomorrow."