A Matrilocal Husband's Counterattack

Chapter 16：Blessed God of Warrior's blade

At 5 p.m., in the president's office on the third floor of the Four Seas Chamber of Commerce building, Ethan reclined in the boss's chair.
Munching on chilled watermelon, he leisurely surveyed the room, as though he owned the place.

After the intense battle, Ethan felt no fatigue, only an unparalleled sense of relief.
The fiery energy from the ginseng fruit had finally subsided.

Across from him sat several female secretaries of the chamber.
Terrified, they poured tea, sliced watermelon, and peeled sunflower seeds for Ethan.

They had all witnessed the fight earlier, and the contempt and disdain they once held for Ethan had been thoroughly trampled underfoot.
Now, their gazes toward him were filled with awe and adoration.

If Ethan had wanted, they would have willingly thrown themselves into his arms.

But Ethan paid them little attention. His gaze instead landed on the Blessed God of Warrior's blade hanging in the corner.

The God of Warrior's blade lies quietly on the rack.

Although the blade merely functions as a decoration, Ethan can tell, that the blade somehow has a spirit because it was blessed by some master.

It was a slightly aged, three-meter-long broadsword, mounted on the wall. The blade gleamed with a chilling light, appearing razor-sharp.
Ethan could even see faint red hues coiling around the blade—blood energy.

"Brother Ethan, those scoundrels, Alexander Huang and his cronies, slipped out through the back door during the fight," Victor Blacke rushed into the room, wiping sweat from his forehead.
"But don't worry, I'll send people to drag them back immediately."

Victor was desperate to redeem himself after the day's disaster, knowing he might face dire consequences if he didn't. He also harbored resentment toward Alexander, whose reckless actions had led to the chamber's humiliation.

"Forget it. Let them go. I'll deal with them myself," Ethan said after a moment of thought. He wasn't being merciful—he simply wanted to see Alexander suffer through his liver cancer.
Rumors had it that late-stage liver cancer turned people into living ghosts.

Ethan was curious: would Isabella stay by Alexander's side when she learned of his illness, or would she abandon him?

"Understood, understood," Victor quickly rescinded the order to pursue Alexander.
"Brother Ethan, you are so magnanimous, repaying evil with good."

Ethan took another bite of watermelon. "Enough with the flattery. Where's the money?"

"Yes, yes," Victor shouted toward the door. "Is the paperwork ready yet? Brother Ethan has been waiting too long!"

Moments later, a young woman entered, handing Victor a document folder.
"Brother Ethan, here's a two-million-yuan check to clear the Spring Wind Clinic's debt in full.

"And here's a contract for a three-year partnership with the clinic," Victor said, spreading the documents on the table in front of Ethan.
"Please take a look."

Ethan chewed on his watermelon, raising an eyebrow. "What's the meaning of this?"

Victor nodded and bowed. "We were at fault for the debt and for troubling you, Brother Ethan. We want to make it right for the Spring Wind Clinic.

"Don't worry—we'll never owe money again. We've also prepared a prepayment of ten million yuan."
He pulled out another check and placed it in the contract folder. "We sincerely hope to continue our partnership."

Ethan, though skeptical of Victor's character, felt reassured by the prepayment.

"Alright, I'll take the check and the contract back," Ethan said casually. "But the final decision will be up to my mother-in-law."

"Of course, of course," Victor beamed. Seeing Ethan accept the offer, he handed over a box.
"Brother Ethan, this is the latest Rolex watch.

"Consider it a token of goodwill. It's a small gift to apologize for our earlier offenses."
Victor respectfully placed the watch before Ethan.

"A Rolex?" Ethan glanced at it indifferently. "What use do I have for this?"

As a live-in son-in-law, Ethan spent his days mopping floors and cleaning toilets. Wearing a Rolex didn't suit his image.
Besides, with his status, a Rolex would only invite ridicule—people would mock him for flaunting a fake luxury item.

"Brother Ethan, please accept it. It's our way of apologizing," Victor pleaded, dropping to his knees with a loud thud.
"If you don't accept it, we'll feel uneasy, as if you haven't forgiven us.

"Besides, this Rolex was originally a gift from Alexander Huang to me. It's only fitting that it now becomes your trophy."

The secretaries and staff around them also implored Ethan to take the watch.

Victor Blacke was indeed a character.
Though Ethan had initially looked down on him, he now admired Victor's ability to adapt. Despite Ethan injuring over 500 of his men, Victor sought to build a connection rather than seek revenge. It was rare to find such pragmatism.

"Alright, since you insist, I'll accept the Rolex," Ethan said, helping Victor to his feet.
"But I won't take advantage of you for free."

"This God of Warrior's blade," Ethan pointed to the weapon in the corner, "is an ill omen. You'd best get rid of it, or you'll soon face calamity."

Having accepted a gift worth tens of thousands, Ethan felt obliged to offer some advice.
The blade seemed to have a long history, yet its murderous aura still lingered.

Moreover, the sharp tip of the blade pointed directly at Victor's chair.
Long-term exposure to such energy, combined with the blade's position, could severely harm Victor's fortunes.

Fortunately, the blade had only been recently placed. Otherwise, Victor might not have survived this long.

"Calamity?" Victor was momentarily stunned, then glanced at the blade.
"Brother Ethan, this thing is just a replica. I bought it for ten thousand yuan because I liked the design.

"How could it bring bad luck?"

Victor, though a devout admirer of God of Warrior, was inherently skeptical of superstitions. To him, geomancy and fortune-telling were nothing more than psychological comfort.

And besides, many of his colleagues, even Mr. Dalton, displayed the God of Warrior's blades. None of them seemed cursed.

Had it not been for Ethan's earlier prowess, Victor might have dismissed him as a charlatan.

Ethan's tone remained calm: "It's better to get rid of it."

Victor nodded hurriedly. "Thank you for the advice, Brother Ethan. I'll dispose of it soon."

Ethan, sensing Victor's insincerity, said no more. He picked up a pen and paper, quickly drawing a Taiji Talisman for Calamity Dissipation.  
"Wear this—it'll save your life once."

With that, Ethan left the office.

Victor glanced at the talisman and chuckled dismissively before tossing it into the trash.

Martial prowess, he could believe. But this fortune-telling nonsense? Pure superstition.

Victor prided himself on being an educated man—a university graduate well-versed in Marxist philosophy.

A few minutes later...

As Victor descended the stairs with an injured subordinate, his foot inexplicably slipped. He tumbled down the staircase, splitting his head open.

Before he could curse, the chandelier above suddenly crashed down with a loud clatter.
Had his subordinate not pulled him aside, Victor might have been gravely injured.

Even so, shards of glass rained down on him, leaving him bloodied.

When they reached the parking lot, the car Victor was about to board erupted in flames.

Victor and his trusted aides exchanged uneasy glances.
Could Ethan's warning have been true?

"The talisman! The talisman!"

In the next moment, Victor scrambled back to the office, overturning the trash can in search of the Taiji Talisman...