At the airport arrivals gate, a sharply dressed middle-aged man stepped forward. "Dr. Lyman, Mr. Goodwin, I''m here to pick you up.”


    "Thank you foring," Ian replied, shaking his hand.


    They climbed into the car and headed straight for the guest residence of the Military Medical University.


    The next morning, Eleanor''s door was tapped. A young female assistant entered with a bright smile. "Dr. Sutton, here are today''s conference materials and the schedule."


    Eleanor smiled back. "Thank you."


    She hurried to the conference hall, but, unfamiliar with the building, arrived to find the room already full. Bowing her head slightly, she scanned the rows, searching for her seat.


    A female assistant approached. "Excuse me, may I have your name?"


    "Eleanor."


    "Oh! Your seat''s in the front row."


    Eleanor''s heart skipped a beat. The front row? Wasn''t that usually reserved for senior faculty and distinguished guests?


    The assistant led her to the very first row. To her surprise, she found her name card betweenn''s and Dr. Lyman''s.


    Settling in, Eleanor opened the conference booklet. Under "Distinguished Guests," she spotted her own name, listed even before several renowned professors.


    In the rigid hierarchy of academia, this was a silent but profound recognition of her achievements.


    Soon after,n and Dr. Lyman entered the hall. Eleanor kept her head down, reviewing her notes asn took the seat beside her.


    A sprightly elderly man made his entrance then-the President of Military Medical University, Principal Maxwell, a legend in the field of neuroscience.


    He delivered a brilliant keynote, highlighting the university''s academic aplishments over recent years, and sharing their vision for future research.


    Eleanor listened intently, feeling a silent gaze fall on her from the next seat.


    When the speech ended, Dr. Lyman turned to her. "Come with me. I''ll introduce you to Principal Maxwell."


    Eleanor quickly nodded, then remembered she''d left her folder behind. She spun around, grabbed her materials, and hurried after Dr. Lyman.


    Principal Maxwell was standing on a sunlit balcony off the main hallway.


    "So you must be Eleanor." He extended a kindly hand. "I''ve heard so much about you! I had all my students read your paper on Al neural simtion robots— several times."


    Flustered and honored, Eleanor grasped his hand with both of hers. "Thank you, Principal Maxwell. That''s far too generous-we''re still just working at the theoretical stage..."


    "Don''t be modest." Maxwell smiled and turned to a group of professors nearby. "Look at this-so aplished at such a young age, and still so humble! No wonder Lyman''s always singing her praises."


    Dr. Lyman grinned. "See, Maxwell? I wasn''t exaggerating. Ellie''s research finally cracked a problem that''s stumped us for years. She''s every bit her father''s daughter."


    The professors chimed in with their agreement, and in moments, Eleanor found herself at the center of attention.


    Across the room,n stood sipping from a water bottle, a subtle smile ying at the corner of his mouth.


    At lunch, the group gathered at a nearby restaurant. In the private dining room, conversation quickly turned to academic matters.


    "Miss Sutton, I heard your team made a recent breakthrough in Al robotics?" asked Professor Moore, head of neurosurgery.


    Everyone paused mid-meal and turned to listen.


    Eleanor set down her fork and knife, then exined the technical principles in detail.


    Gradually, not just those at her table but schrs at neighboring tables fell silent, captivated by her exnation.


    Her coboration with Meridian Dynamics had led to several major breakthroughs, and as she shared the details, the entire room seemed taken aback.