A Xinjiang student’s journey from illness to empowerment

Shiliuyun-Xinjiang Daily (Reporter Wang Jingjing) news: On March 21, 2026, at an equestrian training base in Urumqi County, Urumqi City, northwest China’s Xinjiang, Xie Zhuoya, a sophomore from the School of Mathematics and System Sciences at Xinjiang University, was leading three horses while speaking softly to a visibly nervous classmate beside her: "Put your foot about a third of the way into the stirrup, yes, relax your body, and follow its rhythm." Dressed in a brown leather jacket, dusty riding boots, her slightly curly long hair casually draped, and wearing a stylish cowboy hat, a hint of shyness hid in her eyes — a stark contrast to the valiant figure in her videos, clad in armor, drawing a bow on horseback.

Photo taken on March 21, 2026, shows Xie Zhuoya, a sophomore from Xinjiang University, rides a horse at an equestrian base in Urumqi County, Urumqi City, northwest China’s Xinjiang Uygur Autonomous Region. (Photo by Shiliuyun-Xinjiang Daily/Wang Jingjing)

She spends almost every weekend at horse farms around Urumqi. For Xie Zhuoya, horseback riding is no longer just a hobby; it’s a "necessity of life." This attachment to time spent in the saddle traces back to a decision made two years ago — the choice to press the "pause" button.

How an arrow shattered the feeling of powerlessness

Back in March 2024, having just been in university for half a year, Xie Zhuoya was forced to apply for a one-year leave of absence due to a stark diagnosis on a hospital report. It wasn’t an easy decision — fatigue, tinnitus... these were ailments that had plagued her since fifth grade. After the extreme pressures of her final year in high school, they collectively rebounded, setting off a serious alarm from her body.

"Now that she's got into university, taking a year off to build up her health foundation," her mother, Ran Liqiu, offered her support simply and firmly. "I checked; she can complete her university credits within six years. She also studied independently at home for the last semester of high school. We believe in her. Rest and recuperation come first."

In October 2024, Xie Zhuoya began practicing horse control and balance at the equestrian club. She was naturally unafraid of horses. By her third lesson, following her instructor's guidance, she took a deep breath, gently squeezed with her legs, and leaned forward. The horse understood, transitioning from a trot to a canter — a skill many students only achieve by the seventh lesson. "The feeling of the wind on my face was wonderful. My heart was racing, not from fear, but from the thrill of awakening strength," she said. Dismounting, she felt her pervasive fatigue had also been blown away.

The real challenge was "horseback archery." Initially, she wasn't even considered ready to mount a horse, spending lessons on the ground, repeatedly practicing the tedious stationary shooting: nocking the arrow, drawing the bow, aiming, until her arms ached from exhaustion.

"Keep your eyes on the target, don't look at the horse's head!" Finally came the day she could attempt archery on horseback. At the peak of the horse's gait, she held her breath and released her fingers from the bowstring. The arrow flew far off target, embedding itself in the dirt. But on horseback, in the wind, she had completed a shot relying on her own strength. That missed arrow seemed to have also "pierced" the deep sense of powerlessness that had enveloped her due to her illness.

A viral video unlocks charcoal flower dance

In March 2025, Xie Zhuoya returned to campus. She found a horse farm near the university, negotiated a part-time arrangement, and began trading short video production and new media operations for free riding opportunities. During this time, she met an artisan who crafted traditional Chinese armor. She borrowed a set of armor to wear, galloped on horseback, and posted the video on her personal account — it instantly went viral online. She also wore the armor to the podium, using English to explain the concepts of "driving" and "archery" from the “Six arts of ancient China”, drawing admiration and support from her teachers and classmates.

"So amazing!" "Armor-clad maiden, dreams turning into reality!" The praise from netizens made her realize: in this era that champions traditional Chinese style and treasures cultural heritage, so many resonated with her, giving her immense strength. Seeing the light in her daughter's eyes, her mother bought her a set of armor of her own.

The connections made online led Xie Zhuoya deeper into the realm of intangible cultural heritage. She stumbled upon the “Tanhuawu” (charcoal flower dance, a folk dance where performers twirl burning charcoal sticks) — the moment she saw a dancer swing a burning charcoal cage, creating a dazzling fiery dragon in the night, she was profoundly shaken.

Photo shows Xie Zhuoya, a sophomore from Xinjiang University, performs “Tanhuawu” in Burqin County, Altay Prefecture, northwest China’s Xinjiang Uygur Autonomous Region. (Photo offered by Xie Zhuoya)

Xie Zhuoya contacted a practitioner via a short video platform and proactively sought guidance. After watching her videos of horse riding and archery, the practitioner not only generously imparted the skill but also sent her professional charcoal sticks and cages from afar. The first time she practiced with this equipment at her familiar horse farm, sparks flew, instantly burning several holes in her clothes. But undeterred, she practiced swinging the heavy bamboo pole repeatedly, following instructional videos. Until, finally, the charcoal cage danced gracefully in the night, its flying sparks bursting into beautiful fiery flowers.

Bringing her art back home, her armor shining under the stars

At the beginning of 2026, she returned to Burqin County with her armor and charcoal flower tools. After filming a video in her hometown, the loca media convergence center discovered her and invited her to perform for tourists and locals celebrating the Spring Festival.

On the eve of Chinese New Year's Eve, in the biting cold wind. With her mother's help, Xie Zhuoya donned her armor and lit the charcoal cage. Stepping into the open space, she swung her arms, spun! The blazing charcoal flowers burst forth, transforming into a flowing river of fire, a whirling ring of flame, illuminating the night over the Irtysh River and the faces of the awestruck children around her.

Sweat soaked her inner garments. The weight of the heavy armor and the burning pole in her hand achieved a wonderful balance. At that moment, the wind on the horse's back, the arrow released from the string, the fire dancing in her hands, and the armor on her body — all the strength drawn from intangible cultural heritage converged and surged under her hometown's starry sky, ultimately turning into the bright light shining in Xie Zhuoya's eyes. "I truly admire my daughter," Xie’s mother said. "For the things she loves, she can endure any hardship and tries every possible way. Watching her health and spirit improve day by day, I feel very content."

This is not merely a story of taking a leave of absence. “It's about a young person from Xinjiang, in this new era of cultural confidence, who proactively sought a path to heal herself and rediscover her identity through traditional Chinese skills," said Liu Zihao, a counselor at the School of Mathematics and System Sciences, Xinjiang University. On that path, there is the rationality of mathematics, and the romance of passion; there is the tangible cost, and the immeasurable gain.

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