When the glass door of the emergency department of Yanshim General Hospital slid open automatically, air-conditioning and the smell of disinfectant hit me.
Xia Ying stood at the door and did not move.
She wears a dark blue uniform that has been washed white and has fine velvet at the elbows. On the left chest is a faded red cross and olive branch - the old logo of the Médecins Sans Frontières "Red Kite" unit.
There are two folds burned by faint bullet marks on the edge of the epaulette, like silent scars.
Less than six hours after she got off the plane, her suitcase was still parked in the hospital parking lot, and she was already standing at the noisiest entrance of this huge white tower known as the "Asian Medical Lighthouse."
