As Zheng Jie spent combative hour after hour on tennis drills, muscle training and curative massages at Beijing International Center, where she pitched up before breakfast one day last week, everything about the scene was normal except for one paltry detail: she was the only player there.

Testament to the new treatment being afforded the Chinese No 2, whose pretty face adorns posters and inspires young Chinese girls to learn the game, Zheng is now being allowed to manage her own career by China's traditionally ultra-protective sports authorities.

Only her and three other players, who together form the nucleus of China's new status as a rising tennis power in the women's game, have been granted this freedom - considered a luxury in China's sporting circle.

The fortunate four, who include China No 1 Li Na, Peng Shuai (No 3) and Yan Zi, now enjoy restricted state support thanks to a recent ground-breaking move by Chinese Tennis Association (CTA). They can hire their own coaches for the new season, choose their own schedules - and only need to hand over 8 to 12 percent of their winnings to the authorities. Previously, such contributions could range as high as 65 percent.

"Finally I can have my own schedule," Zheng sighed in an exclusive interview with China Daily. "I can control my time now."

There is a price to pay, however. Zheng and her select compatriots have to accept being separated from their national teammates as they effectively go it alone.

While Zheng trains in Beijing with her husband and coach Zhang Yu, 22 other national players attend winter camp some 2,400 km away in Jiangmen, Guangdong province, in warmer South China.

Apart from the more clement weather, the team benefit from having 17 coaches, eight doctors and a gaggle of scientists on hand. Whenever they need extra help, the players see a group of experts including a sports nutritionist, physician, psychologist, athletic trainer and Jiang Hongwei, the former head coach of the women's national team.

Zheng used to enjoy the same perks, but not anymore. From now on, she will be spending Christmas in the stinging cold of Beijing, where Santa's presence is seldom felt and her no-frills training program comes at her own cost.

Still, the ranking Wimbledon semifinalist is happy with her lot after seven years of national team duty.

"It's a complicated feeling. I got used to the old ways for a very long time," she said. "But (being in control) feels really good," she added, breaking into a giggle. "The officials are so liberal now. It is a new challenge (for me and for them)."

The CTA has agreed not to interfere in the four women's business except when it comes to big tournaments such as the Fed Cup and the Asian Games, at which they are still expected to represent the national side.

The new move has been dubbed "dan fei" (flying the roost) by Chinese media and has won unanimous praise.

It is a life that Zheng, for one, has dreamed of for years. Now she can enjoy holidays, skip winter camp and see her parents in Chengdu during the Spring Festival - things that normal people take for granted.

Yet she was quick to clarify one point: "It is not appropriate to say 'flying away,' because I never actually left the national team."