Based on the life of the Russian dancer-choreographer, the work may be a challenge for more conservative audiences, with its nudity and all-male corps.

'Each of the dancers has his distinctive style, which provided further inspiration,' Xing says. 'I don't think I could have achieved this if I had remained on the mainland or gone abroad.'

His flair for dance was evident early on. Xing was winning international prizes in his early 20s and had already been recognised by the Guangdong government in 1997 as a so-called star of the century.

But he's an unassuming star. During an open rehearsal at the CCDC studio in Wong Tai Sin, Xing chatted genially with a group of visiting secondary students, and hammed it up with other dancers for the camera.

Xing got the idea for his new production after appearing in a video production dealing with the turmoil of psychosis. Inspired to explore that descent to the edge of madness, he hit on the story of Nijinsky, who suffered a schizophrenia-induced breakdown at the peak of his career, when he was 29.

'God played a joke on Nijinsky,' Xing says. 'I got a deep sense of helplessness as I read his diary. I realised that his story was about people's inability to control their lives. I think this sentiment rings true to every member of the audience, not just dancers.'

Xing is familiar with feeling driven by external forces. 'I've always been a pessimistic person, easily moved by sad emotions,' he says.

That stems partly from a fractious home life. 'My father often beat me when I was little. Once it got so bad I almost picked up a knife [to retaliate],' he says. 'And when you're placed in a highly competitive environment, it's hard to have a sense of stability.'

His early interest was in kung fu. But when he was 12, he says, his father, a government translator, bullied him into auditioning for a place at the prestigious Beijing Dance Academy. Although he was in select company, as one of 16 candidates chosen from a field of 10,000, Xing says it took him four years to develop a genuine interest in dance.

But he hasn't looked back since. In 1988, he won the top prize in a national competition for junior dancers and was appointed a principal dancer in the ballet academy's youth division, three years later.

CCDC founder Willy Tsao Sing-yuen recruited Xing to his Guangdong Modern Dance Company in 1993. Xing's five-year stint with the troupe was a turning point in his career. Top artists from around the world were often invited to lead workshops, and he revelled in going beyond the constraints of ballet.

'I never felt so free before,' he says. It was an explosive period, when he was so fired up he would dance for hours without rest.

The less oppressive political climate in Guangzhou compared with Beijing - 'the capital can't be very liberal,' he says - added to Xing's feeling of abandon.

'I just spent time in the studio, and didn't sense any of the political constraints outside,' he says.

The troupe gave him many opportunities for exposure abroad, and he went on to win prizes at international dance competitions in France and Italy. Even so, he jumped at Tsao's invitation in 1998 to join CCDC in Hong Kong. 'I didn't hesitate,' Xing says. He says he was drawn by the quick flow of information and mixture of cultures in the city.

Moreover, many mainland troupes have yet to find their own direction. 'I saw a lot of dance companies, but their performances were very similar. They still lack a style,' he says, whereas Hong Kong could give him the stimulation he wanted.

Comfortable in Cantonese, Xing quickly settled in and, like many local men, has developed a mania for collecting sneakers. He also appreciates the greater intellectual challenge that Hong Kong presents - audiences here are more critical compared with the mainland, he says. 'This draws out the best performances,' Xing says. 'It forces you to think of alternative ways to present an idea.'

And thanks to the pace and unpredictability of Hong Kong life, he lives much more in the moment. 'It's not like the mainland, where things may stay much the same for the whole year. In Hong Kong, a lot could change in one day. That's why I only have a vague idea of what I want to do in the future.'

Xing's attitude to dance has evolved with greater exposure. '[At international dance events] I saw so many top performers completely immersed in dance,' he says. 'I started to understand that the real meaning [of the art] is not about competition.'

But it was an epiphany five years ago that had the biggest impact, Xing says. As an ambitious dancer in his 20s, he used to feel he could achieve anything he wanted. 'I regarded myself too highly. I wanted to be No1,' he says.

Then he had a revelation during a train journey in Rotterdam. 'I was looking at the sunset, the river and the birds. Suddenly, a beam of sunlight shone on me. There was this deep well of silence inside me, and my entire being just relaxed.'

And although they weren't close, his father's death in 2003 reinforced the feeling that Xing should ease back. 'That was the first time I saw someone pass away. It showed how brief and fragile life can be,' he says. 'Now I am no longer as concerned with being famous. I have learned to let go and enjoy life better.'

That's not to say Xing demands less of himself. 'Modern dance is more about how you perceive life,' he says. So, he's tapping into different art forms and learning - literature, music, film and, more recently, Buddhist philosophy - to enrich his work.

'I think it has to do with me delving deeper into the expression of emotions,' he says. Once drawn to western thinkers such as Arthur Schopenhauer, Xing now finds greater relevance in the writings of Nan Huaijin. 'Chinese philosophy deals with a lot of nuances.'

Besides, creative work isn't something that can be forced, he says. 'You have to wait. The quality [of dance] evolves over time.' Xing is being rewarded for his patient work. 'I'm now in my best shape, in the sense that I know how to communicate with my body, and change with the beat and music.'

Nijinsky, Sept 29-Oct 1, Hong Kong Cultural Centre Studio Theatre, TST, HK$120-HK$500. Inquiries: 2329 7803