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... edle hidden in Ling Xiao’s sleeve had already revealed its tip.

A fierce ruthlessness flashed in her eyes as she aimed to stab Shiqi with the needle, but the door was suddenly kicked open from the outside, causing her hand to falter and the needle to drop to the floor.

Qi Yu entered, carrying a lamp, and seeing signs of a scuffle inside the room, he clicked his tongue lightly, "Shiqi, all these will be deducted from your monthly allowance."

Shiqi nodded expressionlessly. ...

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The Last Touched is a haunting fantasy of bloodlines, broken fate, and the perilous cost of power.Elsbeth MoonChild is the last of the touched—the final descendant of a cursed lineage bound to the flame. As Alpha of the shattered 12th pack, she bears the ruin left by her father’s crime: the murder of the queen. Branded by his betrayal, hunted by her former chosen mate, and driven into exile with the last of her people, Elsbeth has one desperate path forward—to survive, she must stake her claim in the Rite of Queens, an ancient trial that demands strength, sacrifice, and the will to rule.But the Rite does more than test her body and mind. It pulls her backward in time, submerging her into the forgotten life of her ancestor—the first queen. As memories bleed into dreams and dreams into waking, Elsbeth begins to unravel a long-buried truth: the flame in her blood is not just magic. It is a weapon. A curse. A gift once traded in blood and sacrifice to end an age of chaos.And she is not the only one who carries it.Julia, her estranged sister—exiled, fire-born, and half-mad with hunger—is no hybrid. She is the living echo of the power their bloodline tried to bury. Ruthless, charismatic, and driven by the belief that the throne was stolen from her, Julia is building a gospel of grievance and flame. Her army grows in the shadows, fed by secrets and stolen children. And with each ritual, the ancient seal weakens, waking something that was never meant to rise again.Torn between duty and desire, Elsbeth clings to the one thing that keeps her tethered—Fen, her true mate, a being older than he appears, hiding a divine truth of his own. Their bond runs deeper than fate, but it terrifies her. To surrender to it would mean choosing love over the kingdom. And if she falls too far, the flame inside her might burn her from within… just as it did her father.As old gods stir and the fire in her blood begins to answer the call of something watching from beneath the ice, Elsbeth must decide: will she become the queen her people need? Or the weapon her blood was meant to wield?

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On condition that the emperor’s favorability score was too high, he’d fall in love with Ye Yang. However, if his favorability score was too low, he’d be mercilessly killed. In order to protect his life and chastity, Ye Yang forced himself to create his own persona, repeatedly switching between the personality of an unrefined man from Northeast China and the first beauty of the harem.

Yet, things were getting worse and worse. At first, he let the favorability score of the dog emperor drop. Later, the score began increasing rapidly. Watching how the favorability score was about to skyrocket, Ye Yang panicked.

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He had a snowball fight with the dog emperor and pushed him into a snowdrift. Both of them caught a cold. Feng Luan’s favorability score had been increased by +10.

The mink he raised thought out a plan for Feng Luan to renovate the imperial study room worth of more than 10.000 taels of silver. The imperial study was so horrible that one could hardly bear to look at it.

Feng Luan’s favorability score had been increased by +100.

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The longer Ye Yang lived in degradation, the more he felt that the dog emperor was different from what he initially thought.

At his feet the ground was covered in blood and bones, but behind him was the delightful scenery of the prosperous world, and the coming of all nations.

A few years later, he helped Ye Yang up the stairs and gazed into the distance. He saw a myriad of twinkling lights, bustling, bright and beautiful.

And Feng Luan whispered in his ear.

“My dear Imperial Concubine, look.”

“This is our country.”

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An advertising director is reborn in 1988 Hollywood as an eighteen-year-old blond-haired westerner named Eric Williams.

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