"No." Jian's mouth twitches, almost a smile. "I told him about it last week. He was... skeptical. But interested."
"Why didn't he ask me?"
"Because you did not bring it up." Jian turns to face him, and there's something in his expression, some warmth that Alex has never seen directed at him before. "You did not brag. You did not try to sell him. You just... were. This is why he likes you, Alex. He told me, after you went to the bathroom. He said you are trustworthy." Jian puts a hand on Alex's shoulder, and the gesture is so uncharacteristic that Alex freezes. "This is a very good thing. My father's trust is not given easily. Do not waste it."
They stand there for a moment, two young men on a Berkeley sidewalk, and Alex feels the weight of something shifting between them. Not friendship, exactly. Something more durable. Alliance, maybe. Partnership.
"I should go," Jian says. "My father and I have... things to discuss."
"Family stuff?"
"Immigration stuff. His status. Complications." Jian doesn't elaborate, and Alex doesn't ask. "I will see you Tuesday. We need to finish the information geometry proofs."
"Yeah," Alex says. "Tuesday."
They part ways. Jian walks toward a black sedan idling at the curb, and Alex watches him go, wondering what it costs to be Jian Li, what it costs to carry that much weight with that much grace.