Illustration: Liu Rui/GT

The old saying "it is the mound higher than the dyke that gets washed out by waves" is certainly true of Sun Yang. Things did not go swimmingly for the top swimmer, who plunged into the murky waters of doubts in the latest 16th FINA World Championships.

Despite his withdrawal from the men's 1500m freestyle final, Sun earned his second-straight Male Swimmer of the Meet award, inviting criticism from overseas press and remaining hopefuls about this Chinese player's competitiveness and credibility, as if they were vying to rip off Sun's crown.

They felt "disappointed" and "absolutely shocked" about the federation's "disgraceful decision" to snub other front runners in favor of a trophy-deficient, doping-adulterated candidate.

But, behold, the award was not a diktat by some mover and shaker. It was a number-crunching algorithm to the gills: a champion is worth 5 points, runner-up 3, third place 2, all for individual events. As a result, Sun Yang chalked up 13 points with two gold and one silver, pipping his arch rival Adam Peaty by one point and paddling through his lane to a narrow victory.

Hilariously, those mathematically challenged die-hards began to harp on about Sun's doping incident in 2014, which has already been clarified as the team members' dereliction of duty, who were behind the curve of newly banned drugs by WADA, and fed Sun with Trimetazidine, a clinically effective substance for his heart problems that happened to appear on the illicit stimulants list earlier that year. The responsible party served a three-month suspension imposed by the national watchdog.

However, for all the pinpoint calculation and exhaustive analysis, several Westerners' pride and prejudices still make them squint against China's leaps in the field long reined by their compatriots.

Like in the 2012 London Olympics, speculation and skepticism faced 16-year-old Ye Shiwen, who set a world record in the women's 400m individual medley at a blistering speed, swimming even faster than her male counterpart in the final meters.

This raised eyebrows and ruffled feathers of many that declared Ye's achievement was "disturbing" and "defied belief," and accused her of using performance-enhancing drugs, turning a blind eye to the fact that she passed all of the drug tests required by the International Olympic Committee.

Nevertheless, except for cases of sour grapes, we have to admit such claims are not utterly unfounded. Sun, Ye and the like swallowed the bitter pills of their doping-doused, scandal-laden predecessors.

During the 1994 Asian Games in Hiroshima, the Chinese swimming squad grabbed a staggering 23 gold medals. Yet surveillance devices showed our athletes taking fishy drugs and injections in the room. In the follow-up spot checks, seven swimmers tested positive for steroids, setting tongues wagging and heads shaking around the globe.

This marked a watershed in China's anti-doping campaign. The governing body beefed up inspections afterward and meted out stiff punishments to offenders.

In the past, when Chinese competitors were proved to be clean and clear, voices abroad would be caustic about our "mechanic," "robotic," and "stringent" training regime, as though their prodigies just sleepwalk toward the winners' platforms.

In my eye, they are no better than villagers getting wrong-footed in a jealous derangement over their rags-to-riches, get-rich-quick neighbors. After all, humans struggle to keep up with the Joneses in life, not the Kardashians on TV.

As China, once the "sick man of East Asia," is beginning to rise to its feet, the oriental dragon will wow the world, thus spelling controversies from far and near.

Unable to mute the noise and cover jaundiced eyes, it is better for us to stuff up our ears, put on goggles, dive into the water, and swim all the way to the finishing line.

The author is a freelance writer based in Shanghai. opinion@globaltimes.com.cn