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

They exchanged a glance and burst into laughter. Lin Tian felt all the pent-up emotions in his chest dissipate. He raised his hand, ripped open the sash of his outer robe, and threw it to the ground with a "rip".

He wiped the wine stains from his chin, glanced sideways at Meng Tian, ​​and asked loudly, "General, how does it taste?"

Meng Tian hadn't expected Lin Tian to have such an astonishing capacity for alcohol, nor had he anticipated such courage and magnanimity in his every move. He clasped his hands in a respectful gesture and solemnly said, "Grand Preceptor, this cup of wine has revealed your true character; this courage is worthy of the title 'Pillar of the Nation.' Your Majesty's acquisition of such a ruler is truly a blessing for Qin!"

As the alcohol took effect, his guard lowered. Lin Tian seized the opportunity and asked directly, "Alright! Then let me ask you another question—General Meng Tian, ​​what brings you here, armored and armed?"

"With iron hooves trampling the mountains and rivers of the six kingdoms, the nine provinces are unified, and all nations come to pay tribute!" Meng Tian straightened his spine, his voice as firm as metal and stone.

"Again, with treacherous officials hindering you from within and powerful enemies lurking from without, how could you sweep across the land?"

"First we must eliminate the corrupt officials in the court, then we must cut off the arm of the barbarians!" Meng Tian replied resolutely.

Lin Tian smiled: "Lu Buwei, Miao Du, and their ilk are the most poisonous parasites in the imperial court. May I ask, General, how do you intend to remove them?"

Meng Tian was startled, and his voice stopped abruptly.

The General's Mansion was under his jurisdiction, and Lin Tian's words were not afraid of reaching Prime Minister Lü's ears—Lü Buwei would not dare to easily touch him; but to ask him to personally give a countermeasure... he could not speak, dared not speak, and did not know where to begin.

This is a sharp blade hanging overhead for many years, which no one dares to touch and no one can solve.

"Heh... What? General, your bravery surpasses all others in the army, yet all you know how to do is wield your sword? The Meng family has been loyal and valiant for generations, three generations of Qin generals, each dedicated to expanding territory and bringing peace to the people. But have you truly seen clearly—the true edge of Qin's sword lies not outside Hangu Pass, not at the foot of Yinshan Mountain, but within the walls of Xianyang Palace, before His Majesty's bedside, in the sleeves of your officials, and on the Zhuque Avenue that you, General Meng, traverse every day! A nation may be strong, but excessive militarism will lead to its decline; an army may be powerful, but forgetting danger will bring ruin. If you only know how to be ready for battle but cannot see the undercurrents in the court, even a million soldiers cannot withstand a secret memorial or a forged edict." Lin Tian's voice was not loud, but every word resonated deeply.

After saying this, even he himself believed it to some extent—as if he had truly become that old Qin man who gritted his teeth to guard the pass and glared angrily at the heavens.

Life is like a play; the key is to get into the role.

In order to win Meng Tian's sincere trust and to undermine the Meng family, this pillar of strength, Lin Tian did indeed put in a lot of effort and thought behind the scenes.

Meng Tian's body trembled slightly, and his knuckles unconsciously gripped the edge of the table, clearly having been deeply shocked by Lin Tian's words.

His gaze was like a knife, scraping across Lin Tian's face inch by inch, remaining silent for a long time. After a long silence, he suddenly raised his eyes, his voice like tearing silk: "The enemy's forces are overwhelming, how can the Imperial Advisor possibly defeat them?!"

Lin Tian smiled – it was done. Meng Tian breathed a sigh of relief, and the rest of the journey went smoothly.

He had long understood Meng Tian's concerns: he was simply afraid of the Qin court collapsing and the government falling into chaos. Lin Tian was more afraid of this than anyone else, and he cared about it more than anyone else—stabilizing the Qin Dynasty was his top priority, and it was also his strongest asset.

He responded loudly, "The enemy's advance is now in my grasp! General, await only the order, and you will cover my retreat—by this time next year, the banners of the six kingdoms will surely fall beneath the palaces of Xianyang!"

Meng Tian remained silent for a moment, then raised his hand to dismiss the maid—the little girl who had been standing with her head bowed beside Lin Tian.

Once everyone had left, only the two of them remained sitting opposite each other in the room. Lin Tian remained calm and composed, simply meeting Meng Tian's gaze, waiting for a decision.

The hesitation on Meng Tian's face gradually faded, and an iron-like fortitude slowly emerged between his brows.

"I come from a military background," he suddenly spoke, his tone heavy as if weighed down by a stone. "Grand Preceptor... are you capable of leading troops?"

These words came out of nowhere, and Lin Tian was caught off guard, raising an eyebrow slightly.

Seeing his stunned expression, Meng Tian frankly stated, "I believe in military strategy, not titles. If the Grand Preceptor can truly lead troops to kill the enemy, then I will believe you can defeat those people—just like when I lead troops into battle, only victory counts."

"I see." Lin Tian nodded, his smile bright. "Please feel free to test me, General! Even if you're just a theorist, you have a thousand troops in your heart."

He understood that Meng Tian didn't trust him as a person, but rather the responsibility of being the national advisor on his shoulders. Lin Tian felt no resentment towards such a great general who had the Qin state etched into his very bones; he simply considered it a matter of course.

But at this moment, he must not show weakness—he understood this principle better than anyone: one must press on with one's strength, then weaken, and finally exhaust oneself.

He doesn't know anything about military strategy! But even if he's never seen a camel, he's at least seen a donkey run, right?

If he were to back down now, Meng Tian might at most offer him a drink and a song; if he couldn't even handle this man, how could he possibly conquer Wang Jian's camp or Li Xin's training ground? He might as well just pack up and go back to the mountains to farm!

"Excellent!" Meng Tian was even more excited than Lin Tian, ​​his eyes shining brightly. He blurted out, "The enemy forces are overwhelming, and the Grand Preceptor has only recently entered Qin territory and his foundation is still weak—it's like two armies facing off. You lead 5,000 elite infantrymen against an enemy force of 30,000: 10,000 infantrymen, 5,000 cavalry, and 5,000 archers. Grand Preceptor, how do you plan to defeat them?"

"Where is the battlefield?" Lin Tian asked directly after a moment's thought.

Meng Tian answered fluently: "In the third month of spring, deep in the mountains and dense forests."

"How many days' worth of provisions?"

"The enemy has prepared for a month, while you have only three days."

Lin Tian closed his eyes, and a vivid mental image instantly unfolded in his mind—this was really not easy to digest!

What's even more troublesome is that the person sitting opposite him isn't a scholar, but the toughest whetstone in the Qin Dynasty. If he answers superficially and frivolously, he'll lose all face and dignity, and might be secretly called the second "paper general" Zhao Kuo.

Five thousand infantrymen were fighting against thirty thousand mixed elite troops; it was springtime in the mountains, with bright day and night and a clear view; he was still the one attacking the main force, but Meng Tian threw out a question, "How to break through?" as tricky as a dagger to the throat.

Three days' worth of rations, but they have enough for a month... Just by surrounding him without attacking, they could turn him into a dried-up corpse.

Lin Tian suddenly realized a dead end: no matter how he set up the formation, Meng Tian would immediately counter it—one layer upon another, interlocking, just like an onion that could never be peeled off!

He slowly opened his eyes. Meng Tian did not urge him, but sat upright like a pine tree, his gaze intense—it contained not only a test, but also a long-awaited longing: he was waiting for someone who truly deserved the title of "National Preceptor".

"To defend is to perish, and to defend and then launch a counterattack is also to die. Since the general has ordered me to defeat the enemy, I have only one strategy—to strike first."

"I would like to hear the details!" Meng Tian's expression brightened; this sentence struck a chord with him. But he knew in his heart that this situation was a dead end—what he wanted was never a miracle, but a reasonable, logical, and militaryly sound answer.

He silently pondered: if he were leading those five thousand infantrymen, would he dare to, or be able to, take the initiative to break the enemy?

The answer was unequivocal: It's just suicide.

He set the challenge not to "win," but simply to see how tough Lin Tian was, how quick-witted he was, and how many pieces of flesh he could bite off from the iron wall.

Victory? Defeat? Don't even think about it—this was Meng Tian's verdict in his heart.

……

In that instant, a flash of inspiration cleaved through the fog in Lin Tian's mind, and a brilliant plan burst forth, spreading like wildfire.

"The enemy outnumbers us, and our troops are mainly infantry. We must use the mountains and forests as shields and harassment as our attack—small-scale raids and luring the enemy deep into our territory will all rely on the cover of night!"

"A night battle?" Meng Tian nodded, but then pondered, "Even if the Grand Preceptor rode into the forest during the day, he would have nowhere to hide."

"Hmph! In broad daylight? In the hot, windless spring of March, if the enemy advances one mile, I will burn one mile of forest; if the enemy presses five miles, I will burn five miles of scorched earth. Warhorses with bare hooves tread on the fiery ground, their hooves burning and their paws cracking, unable to move an inch!" Lin Tian knew that at this time, the warhorses did not yet have iron hooves to protect their feet, and their hooves were soft and tender, unable to even bear the pain of broken stones.