© SinoAmerican Books 2008. All rights reserved.
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with SinoAmerican Books
J.J. Counsilman
For descriptions of the routine and short forms of the Chinese-Muslim martial art xīn yì liù hé quán mentioned in the story, click here.
The chief moral force in society is the example of the Superior Man.
[Confucius]
For maps of China and the region of Xinjiang where most of the story takes place, click here.
Local people call it “the Land of Death”…
What man or woman could sing and dance, which no matter the words or tune were praises to Allah, with joy and confidence after having committed evil, or with sadness and insincerity after having done great good?
“Our father told us that the Taliban and al Qaeda were worse than the Chinese.”
The old man promptly turned his mouth to Aman’s ear. “That talk could get you and your brother killed.”
“We will never give up our culture; and when we are free of the Chinese, our singing and dancing will drive them away as well.” Aman spoke adamantly, though he now saw more fully how his homeland was caught between two relentless, nearly invincible evils.
Khosan’s bitter laughter was an ugly sound to the young man.
“And in a real fight, you would find it very difficult to knock me out or get around me. So I would win.”
“Not necessarily. Instead of grabbing your throat, I could have struck it with shé tŭ xìn.” With straightened and closed fingers of his right hand, Robert demonstrated a darting, upward jab to the palm of his left hand. No-one doubted that a “snake spitting tongue” to the throat could be lethal.
...he thought about what he could tell her and not him, that he had to respect both his heritages, his Chinese heritage saying “Help the Chinese,” and his American heritage saying “Help the Uygurs and Chinese, and screw the gōngān!”
Before the heatwave, Guma was a poor, peaceful, segregated town. Although less than ten percent of the population, the Chinese ruled and as everywhere in Xinjiang ruled severely at the least sign of disquiet by minorities.
The WZ-10s couldn’t carry troops but had night combat capability, with low-light television cameras and an infrared searching and tracking system. They were deadly in close combat situations. By road, reinforcements would take more than an hour. By then, Colonel Wei angrily shouted into the radio, there will be nothing to rescue but body parts...
It was not the same desert he had seen during his first day in Guma. It was now the “terrible beauty” that the Uygurs rarely talked directly about, that binary environment of attraction or repulsion, hot or cold, bright or dark, and abundant life or widespread death.
The elder Jiang had often taught that a man with wŭdé, martial virtue, could not be defeated by a man without wŭdé; but his mother had reminded him of the other side of that coin, that a murderous nature could go beyond ordinary competence into the realm of a madman’s genius and physical strength. “Your father believes in paradoxes, my dear. The second greatest of which is that a moral man is a better fighter than an immoral man.”
Robert stared at the black, glistening face. It exuded a confidence that he had seen in few other people, all academics at the top of their fields. Comparing a warrior with academics suddenly seemed ludicrous considering what this man’s words meant. What was scholastic twaddle compared with taking one’s own life, a friend’s, and a lover’s to avoid unspeakable torture?
...he was troubled and charmed not only by memories of a hot, violent, sexual night in an alien land, but also by night dreams of fighting alongside her, with guns or xīn yì, and day dreams of precious little blends of genes and cultures.
The Superior Men of Xinjiang