On Christmas morning, heavy snow swirled outside the windows, and even the Black Lake had frozen over beneath a thick layer of ice.
Harley's bed was by the window, so through the droplets clinging to the glass, she could see the snow-white mountains in the distance.
Harley thought those snow-covered mountains were honestly rather ugly; the snow was not nearly thick enough. She definitely needed to add another layer to them—but not now.
Harley had ridden a hurricane back to the castle at nearly three in the morning last night, by which time the lights had already been put out and the entire dormitory was pitch-black.
She did not disturb anyone, simply washed up, and fell into a deep sleep.
When she woke up, it was only seven o'clock. Harley had no desire whatsoever to get out of bed.
She gave the window one last glance, then rolled over and buried her whole body beneath the soft cashmere quilt.
After all, everyone knew that the hardest escape room in the world was this:
Outside, snow filled the sky and the temperature was well below freezing. Inside, the room was a constant twenty degrees, with a blanket over your body, a pile of snacks and drinks by your bedside, and your favorite book right in your hands.
It was simply perfect!
Whenever all these conditions came together, they automatically triggered a mysterious special effect—people were iron, and beds were magnets.
Get out of bed? Impossible, absolutely impossible! Even the Witch of Doom, who could bathe in lava, would decisively choose to sleep in at a time like this!
But a pair of icy little hands suddenly slipped beneath the quilt and forcibly solved Harley's escape-room problem for her.
"Hermione!" After letting out a scream, Harley sat up indignantly. "Can't you let