Reincarnation of the Cloud Dragon - Chapter 107

—————
This chapter is translated by Falnar Novels Team.
Support us by reading on our official site: https://falnarnovels.com
—————

Chapter 107.
Yun Cheon took a single step into the Secret Library.
Beyond the ancient bookshelves lay more bookshelves.
And beyond those, yet more bookshelves.
It was a place where time itself had settled.
The air within the Secret Library was thick with the scent of ages.
Dry paper. Oil-treated leather. The faint, faded aroma of ink.
And threading through it all, a whisper-thin breeze.
Yun Cheon took another step inward, then stopped.
The Jade Dew Orb of Wind Chimes rested in my breast pocket.
The breeze I felt now resembled the fresh scent that had emanated from its jade case.
Resembled, yet was not the same.
The fresh scent of the Jade Dew Orb of Wind Chimes was refined.
Clear, serene, meticulously cultivated.
But the breeze drifting through the Secret Library now was different.
Rough.
Ancient.
Parched in some indefinable way.
Like a wind that had crossed the desert at night.
Yalü Cheok, standing beside me, did not miss the shift in my demeanor.
“Have you sensed something?”
Yun Cheon drew a slow breath.
The scent of ancient tomes and the texture of dry wind seeped deep into my lungs.
“There is a breeze.”
Yalü Cheok’s eyes flickered subtly.
“The Secret Library is always carefully monitored for humidity and ventilation, but….”
He gazed toward the depths of the shelves.
“Surely you do not speak of that breeze.”
Yun Cheon nodded.
“Not the ventilation breeze.”
“Then?”
“An ancient breeze seems to linger here.”
Yalü Cheok’s eyes shifted subtly.
He did not fully grasp the meaning of my words.
Yet he knew I was not speaking idly.
‘He sensed an ancient breeze within the Secret Library….’
Yalü Cheok regarded me for a moment, then spoke quietly.
“This is a place where ages have accumulated. Not everything here is arranged in perfect order.”
His gaze turned toward the depths of the shelves.
“Follow the breeze you have felt. You may encounter something unexpected.”
Yun Cheon nodded silently and moved his steps between the shelves.
His footfalls echoed softly.
Tap.
Tap.
As I ventured deeper into the Secret Library, the shelves revealed themselves layer upon layer.
Bound bamboo slips.
Weathered scrolls.
Martial arts treatises wrapped in leather.
The sound of footsteps settling upon thick stone floors.
The air within the Secret Library differed from that outside.
Sealed yet not decayed, ancient yet not lifeless.
Hidden currents of air drifted throughout.
Exceedingly thin.
Parched.
At times, crystalline winds.
Yun Cheon advanced toward the source of those currents.
Yalü Cheok slowly opened his mouth beside him.
“As I mentioned, the family’s martial arts secrets are not kept here.”
Yun Cheon did not turn his gaze.
Yalü Cheok’s voice drifted low between the shelves.
“The foundational treasures of the Guang Feng Yalü Family are stored separately. This place is less a repository of secret techniques than it is a threshold to the far side of time itself.”
“The far side of time….”
“Indeed. The Desert, the Northern Wastes, the Western Regions, the Demonic Cult’s headquarters, the orthodox sects and the Ten Demon Sects. Over long centuries, our family has clashed with them, traded with them, and sometimes fought them, accumulating records of all manner of encounters.”
Yalü Cheok’s fingertips brushed against one of the weathered shelves.
Dust rose in the thinnest veil.
“Among them are many that resemble failed attempts rather than perfected secrets. Unfinished treatises. Interpretations that never became martial arts. Records that never even earned a name.”
He turned to face Yun Cheon.
“Are you disappointed?”
Yun Cheon’s gaze swept slowly across the shelves above.
Worn.
Incomplete.
Records abandoned by someone long ago.
Yet my eyes grew only deeper with interest.
“No.”
A brief answer.
“Quite the contrary—it intrigues me.”
A flicker of surprise crossed Yalü Cheok’s eyes.
“Might I ask why?”
Yun Cheon did not answer immediately.
My gaze drifted slowly across the weathered scrolls and worn book spines.
There is a saying that the martial art that survives is the strong martial art.
It is not entirely wrong.
But it is not the whole truth either.
The value of a martial art is not determined by victory or defeat alone.
‘Even if Kunlun fell to the Demonic Cult and vanished… that martial art was never inferior.’
I was proving this myself within the Demonic Cult.
Some martial arts do not disappear because they are weak.
Sometimes they are simply buried beneath numbers.
They vanish because they never found a worthy master.
They are swept away by meeting the wrong era.
My eyes grew quiet and still.
A perfected martial art is a path already walked by someone before.
That path is broad and straight.
Safe and swift.
Because many have walked it and it has already been proven.
But its end is usually fixed as well.
I did not come here to walk a perfected path.
Failed records are different.
Those who came before could not go far, so no path was formed.
Yet precisely because of that, it can still be turned in another direction.
An elevated platform abandoned by someone.
But a possibility for someone else.
I spoke quietly.
“Perfected secret techniques are already paths that have been formed.”
Yalü Cheok listened quietly.
“But failed records are paths that have not yet been formed.”
My gaze turned toward the depths of the Secret Library.
“There may still be possibilities remaining in such a place.”
Yalü Cheok was silent for a moment.
His eyes grew slightly deeper.
“I think I understand somewhat what the family lord was curious about and hoping for.”
Yalü Cheok’s gaze turned toward the depths of the Secret Library.
“I too have become curious about what you will find in this place.”
Yalü Cheok took a step back.
“Then follow the ancient wind freely. I shall not interfere further.”
“I accept your kindness.”
I moved forward.
From the depths of the Secret Library, a parched wind flowed very faintly.
That wind was not constant.
It seemed to flow straight between the shelves, but at some moment it would bend.
They scattered, then gathered again in one place.
It felt less like wind and more like an ancient breath.
A faint whisper lingering within the vast body of the Secret Library.
I followed the current.
Past the bookshelves.
Past the bound bamboo scrolls.
Past worn martial arts manuals bearing the fingerprints of countless hands.
Several titles caught my eye.
Guangfeng Eighteen Steps—Severed Sea.
Desert True Qi Codex.
Wind and Thunder Boundary Emerald Record.
Most were incomplete secret techniques.
Commentaries.
Annotations.
Records of failed cultivation methods.
Some bore no proper names at all.
I did not stop.
The texture of the wind.
Similar to the azure fragrance of the Windling Jade Dew Pill, yet rougher and far more ancient.
That essence called to me faintly from the depths of the Secret Library.
Saaaa—
Parched wind brushed against my feet once more.
My gaze turned toward a corner.
A spot darker than the other shelves.
Not from lack of light.
Rather, the air there alone seemed unnaturally desiccated.
Beneath the shelf.
A single wooden chest lay covered in a thin layer of dust.
It bore no ornamentation.
Not a container for treasures.
More like something abandoned so long ago that no one had opened it again.
Yet before it, the wind swirled.
Ever so faintly.
My hand touched the wooden chest.
Aged wood creaked dryly.
Creak.
The chest opened.
Inside lay several thin sheets of paper, loosely bound together.
Too meager to be called a secret technique.
The paper had faded, its edges frayed.
The handwriting itself was inconsistent.
Some lines stretched forth with vigor, while others broke off midway.
It appeared not as though a single person had spent a lifetime compiling it, but rather as though someone from a later generation had forcibly bound together the traces left by many.
I turned the first page.
Above the first page—barely worthy of being called a cover—four characters were inscribed.
Guangfeng Unnamed Record.
A record of the nameless tempest.
My eyes deepened slightly.
A record that had never earned a name.
Or perhaps a record left behind because no name could be affixed to it.
I began reading slowly through the text.
The wind in the Desert does not blow straight.
It races across the sand, yet returns from beneath it.
When the heat of day rises, the wind curves upward.
When the cold of night settles, the wind coils downward.
It scatters, yet returns.
It breaks, yet reconnects.
The Desert’s day is scorching; its night is frigid.
Heat and cold exist upon the same earth.
The wind moves between the two.
The wind does not linger with either.
Such wind is called Circulating Flow.
My fingertips halted.
Circulating Flow.
Wind that bridges heat and cold.
I turned the next page.
The ink was broken in places.
The sentences were incomplete.
‘…Raging Circulating Flow.’
No such name appeared in the record.
It was neither a technique name nor a structural formula.
Yet within me, the scattered passages wove together into a single current.
The cold of the Limitless Frozen Heart Scripture traced the grain of the wind that lingered within the Secret Library.
Around my fingertips, the faintest threads of frost danced.
The ancient wind of the Secret Library pushed against that cold.
The cold flowed with that wind, then returned to my fingertips.
Yalü Cheok’s gaze never left my fingertips.
I immediately withdrew my energy.
The threads of frost vanished.
The wind returned to its thin, parched flow.
It happened in a single moment.
Yet it was enough.
Yun Cheon understood. This was not yet a path—merely the grain from which a path could be carved.
“Just now….”
Yalü Cheok opened his mouth softly.
Yun Cheon gazed down at the Guangfeng Anonymous Record.
“I was merely testing it.”
“…The air within the Secret Library flowed backward.”
Yun Cheon’s gaze turned toward Yalü Cheok.
Yalü Cheok did not press further.
He merely spoke of what he had witnessed.
Yun Cheon folded his fingertips once more.
“It is not yet a martial art. Merely a thread, a beginning.”
Yun Cheon’s voice was low.
A record that even the warriors of the Guang Feng Yalü Family had examined only a handful of times before sealing away.
Yet Yun Cheon had perceived something within it.
Only then did Yalü Cheok recall the words of the family head.
A person reveals themselves not only through how they fight, but through what they read.
Yun Cheon quietly closed the Guangfeng Anonymous Record.
“Could I have this record copied?”
Yalü Cheok regarded Yun Cheon for a moment, then nodded.
“The family head’s permission is required.”
“I would be grateful.”
Yalü Cheok gestured to the gatekeeper.
Shortly after, the gatekeeper returned.
He conveyed his message to Yalü Cheok in a low voice.
Yalü Cheok listened quietly, then looked toward Yun Cheon.
“The family head has answered… He says you must not copy it.”
Yun Cheon’s eyes flickered subtly.
Yalü Cheok continued.
“He says to take the original.”
Whether a peerless secret technique or a renowned martial art, it was still a record of the Guang Feng Family kept in the Secret Library.
Yet the family head of the Guang Feng Yalü Family had surrendered the original.
The weight of that gesture was not light.
“I have incurred a debt….”
Yalü Cheok smiled faintly.
“The family head says it is not a debt, but a connection.”
The Guang Feng Yalü Family did not give it because they failed to recognize its value.
They entrusted it to one who could perceive that value.
It was an act of goodwill, yet also a test.
It meant he wanted to see what this Guangfeng Unnamed Record would become in Yun Cheon’s hands.
“…I shall remember that debt, then.”
Yun Cheon carefully folded the Guangfeng Unnamed Record and placed it within his robes.
Yalü Cheok nodded.
“The Family Head would wish it so.”
* * *
Creeeeak—
The door to the Secret Library slowly closed.
“…Thus our Family’s goodwill does not end here, yet one knot has been tied. Your days remaining with us shall not be long. Rest easy.”
“Should there be results… I shall convey them to the Guang Feng Yalü Family in due course.”
“Heh heh… and yet you speak of debt. A man who cannot live without owing others, it seems.”
Yalü Cheok smiled faintly at Yun Cheon’s forthright nature, then took his leave.
It was then that Kang Hui, having spotted Yun Cheon, approached.
“Master!”
Yalü Hyeon was with him. His gaze brushed across the interior of Yun Cheon’s robes.
“Did you find anything of value in the Secret Library?”
“I obtained one record worth using.”
“A record… you say?”
“Yes. Whether it becomes a path forward or not, I intend to examine it.”
It was then that the sisters of the Yeon Family and Yeop Cheong A drew near.
Yeon Ha Ran’s eyes still sparkled brightly.
“Master of the Black Dragon Gang! Or rather, Yun Cheon of the Black Dragon!”
Kang Hui frowned beside her.
“It sounds strange when you say it that way.”
Yeon Ha Ran laughed brightly.
“Why? It sounds impressive! Crimson Blood Wolf, Kang the Lesser Hero!”
“When did that…”
“These things have a way of spreading.”
Yeon So Ran and Yeop Cheong A bowed respectfully.
“Master of the Black Dragon Gang, congratulations on your victory.”
“My thanks.”
“We must return to the main family now. We’ve had a wonderful time thanks to you.”
At those words, Yeon Ha Ran’s face fell ever so slightly.
Kang Hui’s brow twitched faintly as well.
Yeon Ha Ran looked up at Kang Hui.
“Brother.”
“What.”
“Can I send a letter to the Black Dragon Gang?”
Kang Hui fell silent for a moment.
Normally, he would have responded curtly.
But this time, that was not the case.
“…Very well.”
Yeon Ha Ran’s face brightened with joy.
“Really?”
“Don’t cause trouble on the road. Travel carefully back to the main estate.”
“Yes!”
Yeon Ha Ran pressed her palms together tightly.
Then she approached Yalü Hee.
“Sister, might we meet again next time?”
Yalü Hee gazed down at Yeon Ha Ran for a moment.
“Of course. Why not visit the Black Dragon Gang next time?”
“Wow… Really? Are you truly inviting me?”
Yeon Ha Ran’s eyes sparkled.
“Yes. I promise.”
At those words, Yeon Ha Ran smiled again.
Yeon So Ran stood before Yun Cheon last.
“The Yeon Family deals in horses, carrier pigeons, and information from the roads. Should the Black Dragon Gang Master ever have need of such things, we shall surely meet again, yes?”
Yun Cheon gave a short nod.
Horses and carrier pigeons were resources any martial family required.
It made sense that they had been invited by the Guang Feng Yalü Family.
“Until then.”
Yeon So Ran smiled.
That was sufficient.
“…We shall meet again soon.”
Yeop Cheong A bowed briefly before withdrawing.
My gaze lingered on her for a moment, then scattered as though it were nothing.
Yeon Ha Ran turned back several times, waving her hand.
The figures of the Yeon sisters and Yeop Cheong A’s party slowly receded into the distance.
A brief silence descended.
The martial tournament had ended.
The awards ceremony had ended.
The private audience had ended.
What was to be gained from the Secret Library had been obtained.
The journey through the Guang Feng Yalü Family seemed to be drawing to a close.
In that moment.
Tap-tap-tap.
Hurried footsteps shattered the silence.
“Master!”
A warrior held a small carrier pigeon tube in his hand.
The mark of the Black Dragon Gang.
And upon it, a signature seal.
It was Saengsa Jjon’s.
I accepted the carrier pigeon message without a word.
I broke the seal and unfolded the paper inside.
The message was brief.
Just a single line.
[Return immediately.]
Kang Hui asked quietly.
“Lord, what is the matter?”
I folded the letter.
“We return to the main residence.”
Yet at those words, the atmosphere among the Black Dragon Gang members shifted.
The ripples caused by the alias “Black Dragon”
had already reached Qinghai before my party.

—————
This chapter is translated by Falnar Novels Team.
Support us by reading on our official site: https://falnarnovels.com
—————