Martial Arts Master: The Lin Family Sword God, who swept through the Five Mountains and Four Sects

……

Lin Tian remained silent for a while, then slowly said, "You can ask him yourself later."

"Can I not go?" Han Fei's voice was so weak it was like a mosquito's hum.

-

In the north of Xinzheng City, there is a secluded courtyard hidden deep in the shadows of bamboo.

Gai Nie's brows furrowed slightly. Ying Zheng had specifically invited only Han Fei and Wei Zhuang. Yet, standing before him were three. Especially Lin Tian, ​​who stood as still as a pine tree, his aura restrained and unfathomable—Gai Nie dared not easily allow such a person near the king's throne.

He turned his gaze to Wei Zhuang, asking him silently.

Wei Zhuang merely glanced back at Han Fei's face. Since his senior brother remained silent, he naturally kept quiet as well—he couldn't very well appear less composed than Gai Nie in front of him.

Han Fei sighed and took half a step forward: "This is Brother Lin, I trust him. As for Mr. Gai Nie, I have long admired his name. Although his sword has not been drawn, it has already made my heart tremble."

Gai Nie frowned slightly. He had long heard of Ying Zheng's high regard for Han Fei; to even risk everything to meet this man, he went to Han incognito—this sentiment was too heavy to bear.

Since Han Fei had personally vouched for him, he said no more.

"What do you mean by that?" Gai Nie asked.

Han Fei chuckled and spread his hands: "Brother Wei Zhuang said he wanted to introduce me to a 'friend.' I casually asked, 'Who is it?' He hesitated for a moment, then replied, 'A friend.' Sigh... I've known him for so long, always calling him 'Brother Wei Zhuang,' he loves the wine, and I love the conversation, but he's never even called me a 'friend.' Tell me—this hurts more than a sword to the throat, doesn't it?"

Wei Zhuang remained expressionless, while Gai Nie lowered his eyes and remained silent.

The air seemed to freeze for a moment, as if a gentle breeze was blowing through the bamboo tips, but it couldn't dispel the subtle awkwardness.

"Ahem..." Under everyone's gaze, Han Fei's ears burned slightly. He coughed twice, scratched the back of his head, and chuckled awkwardly, "You two are indeed from the same school... Heh, every time I try to light a fire to warm things up, the flames are frozen out as soon as they appear."

Lin Tian couldn't help but burst out laughing—Han Fei was a walking joke.

"A disciple of Guigu School can also be friends with the Ninth Young Master?" Gai Nie's eyes darkened slightly, his tone calm but probing.

"Of course." Han Fei's smile remained unchanged, his eyebrows slightly raised.

"The Ninth Prince studied under Master Xun of Xiaoshengxianzhuang and also addressed the disciples of Guigu as brothers; yet those two lines in your own book, 'Five Vermin,'—'Confucians use literature to disrupt the law, and knights use martial arts to violate prohibitions,' are like nails, still stuck in people's hearts to this day." Gai Nie's voice was not loud, but it was like a sword blade rubbing against an iron sheath, ringing out clearly.

The art of diplomacy has always relied on the tongue as a blade and strategies as a bow.

Back then, Su Qin united the six states and wore the six imperial seals, forcing Qin to relinquish its imperial title; Zhang Yi cleverly used the strategy of horizontal alliance to break up the alliance and help the powerful Qin conquer step by step; Sun Bin's military strategy was divine, besieging Wei to rescue Zhao, and killing Pang Juan at Maling. His military strategies have been passed down through the ages and are still relevant today.

Although it is unknown why this generation of Guiguzi intentionally led Gai Nie and Wei Zhuang into the world of martial arts, he did not hold back a single bit of his strategies, tactics, and military tactics.

At this moment, Gai Nie asked the question, clearly wanting to gauge Han Fei's worth.

"...So, sir, your trump card was planted here all along." Han Fei clutched his heart in pain, then straightened his back and said solemnly, "The Hundred Schools of Thought contend, each holding its own perspective. Just like the Ghost Valley School, which is divided into vertical and horizontal; Confucianism also has the difference between corrupt Confucianism and righteous Confucianism; chivalry is not monolithic either—the vicious chivalrous wields his sword to commit evil, while the righteous chivalrous wields his sword to help those in distress. Mencius said, 'Even if there are thousands of people against me, I will go,' that is the chivalrous spirit of the Confucian scholar."

"I would like to hear the details." Gai Nie nodded.

Han Fei smiled and continued, "These pedantic scholars only know how to hold the books of sages and talk about benevolent governance, treating laws as mere decorations, as if the world must be sunny and calm every day for crops to sprout and bear fruit. Governing the country with this method is tantamount to pushing living people toward death!"

"A chivalrous man stands with his sword—the ruthless chivalrous man's sword tip points downwards, staining his blood only for personal gain; the righteous chivalrous man's sword tip points upwards, to cleave a sliver of light for the common people."

Gai Nie lowered his eyes for a moment, as if he had realized something.

"Listening to Ninth Young Master discuss swordsmanship, he seems like a seasoned swordsman who has been immersed in the art for many years." He raised his eyes and smiled.

Han Fei shook his head and chuckled, turning to look at Lin Tian, ​​who was leaning against the wall, and said loudly, "Discussing swordsmanship in front of Brother Lin? This isn't just showing off your limited skills before an expert, it's like carrying a lantern into the King of Hell's palace—you're practically walking into a knife's edge!"

Gai Nie's gaze shifted, first glancing at Wei Zhuang—whose expression remained unchanged, showing no sign of distress; then he looked at Lin Tian, ​​his heart trembling slightly.

He knew Wei Zhuang's strength; the two had fought dozens of times, with the outcome decided by the slightest margin.

But when Han Fei finished speaking, Wei Zhuang neither refuted him nor showed any dissatisfaction; he remained silent as a deep abyss.

The answer is self-evident—Lin Tian's strength far surpasses Wei Zhuang's, and even more so, it far exceeds that of Gai Nie.

Han Fei turned to Lin Tian, ​​his gaze intense: "Brother Lin, in my opinion, swords can be divided into three categories: the sword of the commoner, for fighting and displaying power; the sword of the feudal lord, for courage as its edge, integrity as its blade, virtue as its spine, and loyalty as its hilt, its sharpness bringing solemnity to the land; and the sword of the emperor—with the seven kingdoms as its edge, the four seas as its blade, the five elements forged in its hilt, and punishment and virtue as its spine, embodying the opening and closing of yin and yang, the balance of spring and autumn, and the fortunes of winter and summer… once this sword is drawn, all nations will bow down, and the world will submit. What do you think, Brother Lin?"

As he finished speaking, he gazed at Lin Tian with a smile, his eyes genuinely seeking his guidance.

"Hmph—" Lin Tian sneered, casually tapping the scabbard with his fingertips. "After all that talk, Han Fei, I only have one question: Have you ever held a sword in your own hands?"

"Uh... no, really." Han Fei's face stiffened, and he scratched his ear awkwardly.

"The Emperor's Sword? The Lord's Sword? The Commoner's Sword? They sound interesting, but I've never heard of them before. All I know is that swords are made of iron, quenched in blood, and are specifically for killing. My sword—can slaughter one person, can slaughter a city, can topple a country; with one stroke, nineteen provinces will feel cold; with one stroke, the sun, moon, and stars will tremble! So stop with the nonsense, a sword is a weapon, used to kill, and has no other purpose."

Han Fei scratched the back of his neck and glared at Lin Tian with a deep look... Can't I just show off my good looks once in a while?

"Swords are for killing, haha... Well said! I've learned something!" Suddenly, a clear laugh came from the depths of the courtyard. A young man in white stood with his hands behind his back, his face covered by an iron mask, his robes fluttering gently in the wind.

Lin Tian raised an eyebrow and looked over.

"Sir, this is our second meeting," the young man in white said, his voice steady.

Lin Tian nodded and smiled: "That's right. I'm curious, how did you end up here? Were you really cornered by Lü Buwei, with no way out?"

His casual tone made the young man in white pause, a sharp glint flashing in his eyes.

Lin Tian smiled slightly – even if he were to become the First Emperor who would one day unify the six kingdoms, he was currently just a young man showing his talent.

The sharp glint in Ying Zheng's eyes flashed and disappeared in an instant, so fast that it was almost impossible to catch.

"Does the gentleman recognize me?" he asked, his voice lowering slightly.

"Oh? You've seen me before, sir?" Ying Zheng raised an eyebrow, his tone revealing a hint of surprise.

"We've never met." Lin Tian said indifferently.

"Then how do you know me?" Ying Zheng's gaze remained fixed, determined to get an answer.

"Why? Why should I explain the reason to you?" Lin Tian's lips curled up, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.

Ying Zheng frowned slightly.

Lin Tian showed no mercy: "Because you are the King of Qin? Sorry, that title carries no weight with me. You are less a monarch who rules the world and more a lone wolf driven from its den, fleeing in panic."

"You—" Ying Zheng's face darkened suddenly, and a cold light flashed in his eyes.