Despite the sincere eyes of the man wanting to introduce her to The Ninth Institute, she frustratingly put her headphones back down.
Resigned to listening to him lecture her about what iris recognition technology is, she pressed a depressed mood at the bottom of her eyes and unlocked her phone.
The mont the phone was opened, several ssages ca in.
Nathalie Quinlan treated it as if there was another Tang Seng by her ear, trying to keep herself from becoming too restless as she opened the ssages.
The first was from Freddy Cagwin: [Nathalie, have you arrived in Beijing yet? Rember to let know in advance when you will co back.]
Nathalie Quinlan rembered he ntioned Aunt Cagwin brought back an old hen from her hotown, which lightened her mood greatly, a slight smile tugging at her lips, her dark pupils shone clear, her slender white fingers tapping on the screen, she replied to his ssage first.
After replying to Freddy Cagwin’s ssage, she scrolled through others.
There were ssages from Nancy Sullivan and Justin Wafford, as well as from Jhovany Sullivan and the rest, mostly asking if she had left for her trip and telling her about the workbook received by the class.
Justin Wafford was the most exaggerated, sending her a row of ’Kowtow to the Great One’ emojis.
Then there were Shawn Norton’s ssages.
She had ssaged Shawn Norton last night after she was done with her work, telling him she might not be able to attend the music exchange.
Shawn Norton didn’t reply to her last night and had just replied today.
She checked the ti Shawn Norton replied, at 9:30, when she was on the plane, with her phone turned off and had not seen it. After getting off the plane, she made a phone call to soone, and then she t with Brian Bonette and his group, so she didn’t have ti to check her ssages.
She only saw now that Shawn Norton had replied to her.
[Shawn: It’s okay, you do your thing, if you can’t make it, you can’t make it. I won’t go if you don’t, I’ll let the organizer know.]
[Shawn: Oh right, you can’t stand up with your Tsinghua University thing, I’m already preparing the lecture, just waiting for you to co and attend the class at Tsinghua, you can’t sell out.]
Nathalie Quinlan, seeing his ssages, couldn’t help but laugh, relaxedly squinting her eyes as she replied to him—
[NQ: Alright.]
After replying to several ssages in a row and looking up again, she realized the person was still droning on incessantly about The Ninth Institute by her ear.
Nathalie Quinlan felt a throbbing pain in her temples.
Nathalie Quinlan: ...
She wanted to get out of the car!!
*
The atmosphere in another car wasn’t so pleasant.
Upon entering the car.
Phoebe Hoffman saw the laptop in the car and, without any small talk, said directly to Wallace Radcliff, "Mr. Radcliff, didn’t Ms. Quinlan give you the USB flash drive? There’s a laptop here; how about we take a look first?"
Wallace Radcliff’s eyebrows knitted, his facial expression hesitant: "There’s no need to rush..."
"You’re going to check it eventually, if not now, then you will when we get back to The Ninth Institute. Since there’s a laptop here, why don’t we just take a look while everyone is around?"
She didn’t believe Nathalie Quinlan really had the ability to solve that source code problem.
Aside from the driver, there were several other people from The Ninth Institute in their car, who upon hearing this began to speak up: "I want to see, too."
"Mr. Radcliff, did Ms. Quinlan really solve the autonomous driving source code problem in just one day?"
"If the USB flash drive really contains the source code of the autonomous driving system, I want to look at it, too."
"..." Wallace Radcliff knew that although they said this, most of them were skeptical and did not believe the matter.
After all, he was more inclined to believe in Nathalie Quinlan’s skills because he had witnessed first-hand how she single-handedly defeated a group of hackers, counterattacking and blacking out their computers.
"Do you really want to see?" Wallace Radcliff asked her seriously, trying to give Phoebe Hoffman one last chance to save face.
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