Qian GuoBiao’s Double Balance Wheel Proves Less Can Still Impress

The latest creation to leave Qian GuoBiao’s bench is the Double Balance Wheel, a watch that takes a quieter approach than his last major release, Facing The Sky 2.0. By contrast, Double Balance Wheel is stripped back to the essentials. It is about balance, proportion, and mechanical harmony. And yet, it is already making its mark. The watch has been pre-selected in the Men’s Complication category at the 2025 GPHG awards, while Facing The Sky 2.0 has earned a spot in the Mechanical Exception category. Two very different watches, two nominations, all from a one-man brand producing only a few watches a year.

As an independent watchmaker, Qian GuoBiao is not a man in a hurry. In an industry that can feel obsessed with churning out novelty for novelty’s sake, Qian works at a pace that would make most marketing departments twitch. Each of his watches is conceived, built, and finished entirely by him in a workshop in Dongguan, Guangdong Province. His annual output is tiny, sometimes just one or two pieces, but his work has a habit of catching the attention of those who follow independent watchmaking closely.

I’ve been watching him for a while now — pun intended. His collaboration with Behrens on the Kung Fu was one of my favourite watches the brand has ever released, and I said as much when I wrote it up. It was inventive, a little playful, and unlike anything else I’d seen from Behrens. While a lot of Qian’s work leans into very classical watchmaking, which is not usually my go-to, something about his approach keeps pulling me back. There’s a personality in his pieces that speaks to me on a personal level, even when the style is outside my usual lane.

A watch of two hearts

At the centre of the Double Balance Wheel is Qian’s newest in-house calibre, AB-03. On the surface, it sounds almost modest: a hand-wound movement, 18,000 vibrations per hour, and a 40-hour power reserve. Beneath that apparent simplicity lies something far more unusual.

Instead of the usual single regulating organ, the AB-03 has two balance wheels mounted on the same central axis. One sits proudly on the dial side, the other is revealed through the caseback. They beat together in perfect unison without the need for a differential or resonance coupling. This is no party trick — getting two balances to agree with each other takes an almost stubborn level of precision. Every hairspring is matched, every pivot checked and rechecked, until the two beat like a well-rehearsed duet.

There is also a layer of symbolism here that feels very much in line with Qian’s style. One balance wheel is visible, the other hidden. One above, one below. It is a mechanical metaphor for duality, perspective, and the idea that not everything worth appreciating is on display.

From complexity to restraint

Put the Double Balance Wheel next to Facing The Sky 2.0 and the contrast is clear. The latter brims with visual and mechanical flourishes, while the former pares things back to hours, minutes, and a single exposed balance. It is not minimalism for the sake of fashion. Instead, it is the sort of reduction that comes from confidence — knowing you can do more, but choosing not to.

Qian calls the aesthetic modern utilitarianism, and it is easy to see why. The 39mm stainless steel case is clean and unpretentious, with a 12mm thickness and a 46.5mm lug-to-lug that will sit comfortably on most wrists. The “dial” is actually a frosted white copper plate, giving the mechanics the stage. There is nothing here that does not serve the purpose of telling the time or supporting the movement.

Signature details that tell a story

Even in a watch this restrained, Qian’s design language comes through loud and clear. The “woodpecker” click spring is there, bringing a subtle organic twist to the movement’s layout. The multi-layered arrow-shaped balance cock points directly to the regulating organ, a symbolic nudge towards focus and intent. The blade-like escapement bridge, built from layered steel, adds both rigidity and a satisfying depth to the architecture.

These touches are not mere window dressing. They are recurring motifs in his work, refined with each new project. For those who have followed his watches, spotting them is part of the fun.

A one-man operation

There is no team of watchmakers here, no assembly line, no quiet army of finishers in the background. Qian builds each watch himself, from the first sketches to the final timing checks. That is why production is limited to just one or two pieces per year. The price is USD $40,000, and the wait time is 12 to 18 months. Don’t like it? Tough luck, amigo. That’s the way it is with high-end independent watchmaking. Good things come to those who wait.

Buying one is not a quick click-and-pay process, though. You deal directly with Qian, which means the conversation is part of the ownership experience. There is something rare and refreshing about that in a world where most watch buying has been reduced to stock availability and shipping estimates. If you’re interested, I recommend reaching out to his official Instagram page right away to get your name on the waitlist. Those things rarely get shorter.

Why it matters

For many collectors, the appeal of independent watchmaking is in the personality. You are not just buying a specification sheet. Instead, you’re buying into the worldview of the person who made it. The Double Balance Wheel is a perfect example of that. It is not an attempt to chase trends or to cram in as many complications as possible. Instead, it reflects the values of its maker: precision, symbolism, and the belief that simplicity can carry as much weight as complexity.

It is also encouraging to see an independent Chinese watchmaker getting this level of recognition at the GPHG. The spotlight so often stays fixed on Switzerland, with occasional attention to Japan and Germany. Qian’s double nomination this year is proof that exceptional horology can come from anywhere, so long as it is made with skill and intent.

A quiet kind of confidence

The Double Balance Wheel feels like a statement of quiet confidence. It is the sort of watch that reveals more the longer you spend with it, both mechanically and in terms of what it says about the person who made it. With both this watch and Facing The Sky 2.0 on the GPHG shortlist, Qian GuoBiao’s voice is becoming harder to ignore. And if this is what happens when he dials things back, I am very curious to see what happens when he decides to turn it up again.