Only when Lu Mingfei drew closer did he see the polished copper plaque mounted on the white building's exterior wall. It bore a bilingual inscription in Chinese and English: "Sacred Heart Benevolent Hospital."
The building had a modern style, its geometric exterior lines stark and cold, but the garden in front had a classical European feel. The lawn was neatly trimmed and lush, and a cool, crisp fragrance drifted through the air. It seemed like the scent of some flower he had never smelled before, yet also like the faint lingering note of disinfectant masked by perfume.
If not for that plaque, he would never have believed this was a hospital.
There was not even a Red Cross hanging anywhere. It looked more like some upscale resort hotel, or a private country villa built by a wealthy tycoon for weekend parties.
Lu Mingfei figured it was probably a private hospital. Public hospitals in China were generally named things like "Third People's Hospital of Such-and-Such City" or "Central Hospital of Such-and-Such District." A name this foreign-sounding was most likely meant for the rich.
The hospital gate stood three or four meters tall, made of ornate black iron and looking immensely heavy. It was electronically controlled, with sharp spikes lining its top as though they feared someone might climb over. An elderly gatekeeper sat in the guard booth beside it, looking down at something, probably his phone.
The gate was closed.
A trace of doubt crossed Lu Mingfei's mind. Why would a hospital keep its gates tightly shut in broad daylight?
He walked over. Sensing someone outside, the old man in the booth slid the window open a crack, revealing half his face.
"Who are you looking for? Do you have an appointment?"
Lu Mingfei said he was looking for a friend,