For actor Yo Yang, the secret to great acting isn't in a screenplay, but discovered in the unscripted moments of everyday life.
"To act well is to live well," reflects the 43-year-old, whose journey in the spotlight began in 2000, with a role in a music video "Journey" by Hong Kong star, Aaron Kwok.
For Yang, a life well-lived is the antithesis of a social media feed.
"It is definitely not the way it is presented on social media," he insists.
These days, the gentle sway of a bus carrying him and his daughter is a simple rhythm he cherishes. Unlike some celebrities, he doesn't shy away from the public eye, noting wryly, "People these days put all their attention onto their phones and forget to look at the surroundings."
Taking the bus isn't foreign for him. What began as a formal acting school exercise has, over two decades, evolved into a masterful practice. No longer does he just observe life from a distance: Yang immerses himself in its currents, harnessing true artistic power from the beautiful chaos of mundane life.
At the moment, his world is a whirlwind of hands-on fatherhood—of baths, messes, cooking and playground trips. This "messy, trivial, fragmented" reality is not a distraction from his craft, but its most vital nourishment.
It is a life recently expanded with joy. Married to influencer Melinda Wang, who is also the co-founder of skincare products, the couple have two daughters and recently welcomed their son in September.
"I really enjoy family life, time with my wife, despite being busy, having a family makes me more relaxed," he reflects, describing children as a "profound gift" that brings warmth and comfort.
"There are times [when] you suddenly find an emotion in a performance and why it is there is a mystery," noting that these feelings have been seeded earlier in unnoticed moments from his own life, and the best performance is simply one that feels "closer to the state of our lives".
This understanding helped him achieve a breakthrough while portraying a villain in the 2022 drama, Chasing the Undercurrent. During filming, the strict quarantine protocols during the pandemic separated him from his family, causing him to miss his daughter's first birthday.
"I felt really lonely then," he confides, a sentiment he later shared directly with his followers in a poignant Instagram post to his daughter: "This is your first birthday, and the world is going through a big epidemic, daddy can't fly back to you because of this, but remember that we still sing, raise hands, pray through video every day."
"There's a lot of pressure, of course. But life is also filled with sweetness. It's just not going to be perfect, but I think—this is life."
He did not let that loneliness go to waste but alchemised that personal ache into his performance, discovering an unsettling resonance with the character's inner turmoil. "That feeling of loneliness was the villain, that sense of not belonging of being completely adrift—that was him."
There was a point in time that Yang had been as untethered as his character. "We set a goal and hope to move towards it... but often we may arrive at another destination," he says philosophically. "When you look back, you begin to appreciate the process."
Clearly, his goal is not perfection, but presence: "It does not mean everything has to be a perfect 10, but how clearly you know what you are doing... just do well the things you are doing right now, and that is enough."
This hard-won equilibrium was being put to the test at the time of our interview. With his wife in postpartum confinement, he was shuttling between the hospital where his ailing father was warded at and home to care for his children. Yet, a quiet calm radiated from him, the steadiness of a man grounded by his principles.
"There's a lot of pressure, of course," he admitted. "But life is also filled with sweetness. It's just not going to be perfect, but I think—this is life."
For one who constantly navigates different realities, Yang treats mental health with the same urgency as physical fitness because "it affects everything."
According to him, having faith as his anchor reframes his entire journey. Where others might see only repetitive cycles, he sees life as an upward spiral, and each challenge is met with ever-deepening perspective.
"I think you need to maintain a heart that always has faith and hope," he speaks with conviction, further defining this active faith with a quote from the Bible: Hebrews 11:1—"Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see."
"This means that I am so certain of a future outcome that it feels as if it's already in place. We are simply on the path toward its realisation."
This forward-moving confidence is a lesson he and his wife hope to impart to their children, but by example. "Children are constantly watching how you deal with problems, interact with others, and how you maintain hope in times of difficulty."
Long before his award-winning film career, Yang had appeared on screen in the MVs of Mandopop royalty that includes Stefanie Sun, Sandy Lam, Sammi Cheng and Mayday.
His transition to leading man was cemented by his debut film, Formula 17 (2004), which garnered him the Golden Horse Award for Best New Performer. From there, he proved his box office appeal in commercial successes like Zone Pro Site and David Loman (both 2013), while also showcasing his range in landmark TV dramas like Crystal Boys.
Of late, he has captivated audiences with complex roles, such as his nuanced portrayal of Detective Pan Wencheng in the 2021 Netflix series Light The Night. His latest project, Mudborn, premiered in Taiwan on 9 October.
Fans can next see Yang in November, not just in front of the camera but behind it as a producer for the comedy, Oops, I'm in Jail. It's his third such venture, and the series takes a witty look at modern life by setting it in a prison. "While it features convicts and correctional officers, the drama is really about how all of us live by a strict schedule every day—it's a humorous way to mock our own lives, confined by our daily routines," he explains.
For him, a story is not mere abstraction but a tangible force that has power to alter one's life course, as evidenced by the biographies and biblical tales that reshape human perspective.
Lately, the story of Moses has been his source of strength—a narrative of faith and tenacity against impossible odds. "Even though there were chariots pursuing from behind and the Red Sea blocking [him] ahead," he describes, "[he] bravely walked forward."
Three days after our conversation, Yang's father passed away. In a heartfelt Instagram post, the actor shared their final story: He recounted a call from his mother, saying how his father had drunkenly broken his collarbone, leading Yang to the emergency room after an 11pm finish.
He recalled how, for three months, he visited the hospital nightly, praying for his father and sharing with him the story of Moses. "I told you how you are like Moses, you have to escape the power of the Pharaoh," he wrote. But with tender, heart-breaking honesty, he observed the role reversal: "I found that you look more like the Pharaoh now in the hospital, in a robe, sitting there bald and you wanted us to serve you well..."
In this intimate epilogue, the story became the very language of his love, his struggle, and one of his most important farewells in life.
"The slightest shifts in pronunciation can alter a sentence's entire meaning. Voice can completely replace your expression. "We can close our eyes and discern a person's emotion just by listening."
Interestingly, Yang had shared earlier on in the chat, how a wrap party was paramount for him after filming was accomplished.
"[It's a] ritualistic closure where all the actors and staff would share a meal and I could finally feel, 'OK, it's done'," he recalls. That ceremonial ending allowed him to leave a character behind.
These days, his focus immediately shifts back home when filming ends. "You have things to deal with at home and these quickly pull you back into your own life."
His secret to balancing it all is a self-discipline so rigorous it happens while the city sleeps. Precious pockets of me-time he reserves for surfing, running, or cycling—at 4am or 5am, finishing before his family wakes.
Despite this intensely busy life, Yang makes time for extra lessons with a dialogue teacher, obsessing over pitch and pronunciation.
"The slightest shifts in pronunciation can alter a sentence's entire meaning. Voice can completely replace your expression," he notes with fascination. "We can close our eyes and discern a person's emotion just by listening."
Reflecting on his earlier days of acting, he admits that he "didn't really know how to utilise his body or certain methods of acting."
Engaging with the world is one of the ways he hones his craft. His creative wellspring is found in the kitchen cooking. This leads him to the markets to shop for unique produce and engage in spontaneous chats with the vendors. His interaction with his children during play provides him with uninhibited imagination. Yang believes that performance evolves with age and life experience, naturally accruing depth and layers.
"Every role is not me," he explains, "but every role resembles one part of me."
This dynamic relationship between the man and the artist is what he calls the most captivating part of performance art.
It is a relationship he regards with clear-eyed affection. "Looking back, my previous work carried a youthful innocence that I might have already lost now," he muses. "But knowing that makes that acting then even more precious."
Photography: Chiang Ming Shih
Styling: Asri Jasman
Art Direction and Production: Joan Tai
Hair: Isiah Lin at DRIVEN.BY
Makeup: Ruby Hung
Hair Assistant: Chris Liu
