I first heard Mao Buyi's song Xiao Wang on a quiet night after a disappointing climbing session. I had failed the same route three times. My fingers ached. My ego ached more.
Then the song played.
Xiao Wang is not a dramatic song. It doesn't scream or beg. It simply tells the story of an ordinary person—Xiao Wang—who lives an ordinary life, with ordinary dreams and ordinary disappointments. But Mao Buyi sings about him as if he matters. Because he does.
That's when I realized: Xiao Wang is every one of us. And a hangboard is where Xiao Wang trains.
Who Is Xiao Wang?
In the song, Mao Buyi writes from the perspective of looking back at a younger version of himself—that younger self is Xiao Wang. No hero. No celebrity. Just a regular person who keeps going, day after day, unnoticed. The lyrics say: "If I meet him in a corner, and the wind happens to blow his hair."
Xiao Wang is the version of us that no one applauds. The one who shows up when it's raining, when no one is watching, when the progress is too small to measure.
Why the Hangboard Is Xiao Wang's Gym
Hangboarding is not glamorous. You hang from small edges. You rest. You hang again. You log milliseconds of improvement. Most people won't see you do it. Most people wouldn't care if they did.
But that's exactly the point.
In a world that celebrates big sends and flashy dynos, hangboarding is the quiet work of Xiao Wang. It's the 10 seconds of hanging when your grip is screaming. It's the third set when no one is cheering. It's the decision to train even when you feel weak, tired, or forgotten.
Mao Buyi sings: "I will slowly approach, observe from afar. He has a pair of sad eyes, and a gentle mouth."
That's the hang board. It doesn't make you famous. It makes you stronger—in the dark, in an unnoticed corner, in the small hours when only you and your timer exist.
What Hangboarding Taught Me About Being Xiao Wang
For months, I hated hangboarding. It felt boring. Lonely. Pointless. I wanted to be outside, climbing real rocks, sending real problems. But my fingers were weak, and weakness doesn't negotiate.
So I became Xiao Wang.
I hung when I didn't want to. I rested exactly 3 minutes between sets. I wrote down numbers that meant nothing to anyone but me. And slowly—so slowly I almost missed it—my half-crimps got deeper. My open-hand grip lasted two more seconds. A route that once felt impossible became merely hard.
That's the miracle of Xiao Wang. Not glory. Just growth.
Mao Buyi also sings: "I won't ask, and I won't ask further. Just let him go—he has his own journey."
The same is true for climbing. You don't ask why others progress faster. You just walk your own journey. The hang board is the quietest, most honest part of that journey.
Every Climber Has a Xiao Wang Inside
Some climbers are born talented. They flash your project. They get sponsors. They are fireworks.
But most of us are Xiao Wang. We fall. We try again. We fall differently. We watch YouTube videos at midnight. We tape our split fingertips and go back to the hangboard because giving up feels worse than failing.
Mao Buyi understands this. He doesn't sing about champions. He sings about the person who keeps showing up—not for applause, but because stopping would mean betraying the ordinary, stubborn, beautiful heart inside.
Near the end of the song, Mao Buyi writes: "I will bless you from afar. You will become who you want to be."
The Final Rep
For anyone who trains alone, that blessing carries deep weight. Every pull on the hangboard, every silent minute of suffering, every small victory no one celebrates—it all adds up. And one day, you look back and realize: that ordinary person, that Xiao Wang who kept hanging when no one cared, became the climber you are today.
So thank you, Xiao Wang. Thank you, Mao Buyi.
And thank you, hangboard—for reminding me that most growth happens where no one is watching.
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A Note to Readers
If you train at home, late at night, alone with a hangboard and a timer—put on Xiao Wang sometime. Not because it's climbing music. But because it's human music. It's for everyone who ever felt unseen, kept going anyway, and woke up one day stronger than they had any right to be.
Keep hanging, Xiao Wang.