He devotes full chapters to reflections on love and lifestyle, and offers a comprehensive survey of personal anecdotes and travel experience.

“When I was around 25, I sought assurance that good, clean words would find an appreciative audience,” Yao said. “Today, what I treasure is something more simple and pure – something free of pretentious intentions.”

“Yao’s greatest advantage is his ability to mold words from a feminine perspective. He was always motivated to come up with a song which would touch the soul of ordinary listeners,” said Zhang Yadong, Yao’s friend and a prolific record producer. “The text offers a careful analysis of how China’s best wordsmiths see fashion, trends and lifestyles.”

Peppered throughout are seemingly random reflections on fashion and textual analysis. Yao’s lyrics clearly come from personal experience and are fascinating in a psychological context.

In these pages, the lyrics become associated with elements of American modernism as the lyricists pair Chinese vernacular with song.

Result of shyness

Yao is famous for his vivid and sentimental love stories told through song. His fame took off during the 1990s, when countless teens swallowed up every character he wrote.

But as a child, Yao was too shy to speak to strangers. He was easily intimidated and seldom looked into others’ eyes. He developed a habit of staring at the ground, or at people’s fingers and toes when they weren’t looking.

Among his lost chances at love was one girl with bright white shoes and stockings. “Although she passed away years later, the image of her standing under the sun with white shoes was burned into my mind. Now whenever I see white shoes, I’m reminded of feelings of unrequited love.”

Before Yao set his sights on becoming a prolific writer and lyricist, he made a fleeting attempt at Industrial Design. After college, he transferred from the textile industry to auto sales.

At the age of 25, he got a position as an assistant in a small company. But the defining moment in the Yao Qian’s career came eight years later in 1994, when Faye Wong and Winnie Hsin’s “I Do” topped the Taiwanese billboard.

Many said his words were simple and had a childlike innocence, but behind them was an adult sentiment.

Yao collaborated with several female singers to describe urban indifference, individual emotional expression, as well as the concept of time and the beauty of human nature.

“Smell” is one of the finest examples of Yao’s language: “I miss your smile; I miss your jacket; I miss your white socks. And your breath. I miss your kiss. The tender smell of smoke within your fingers. And the feeling when I am loved in my memory.” The simple but melancholic line captured millions of teenage hearts in the 1990s.

The imaginative and dramatic internal monologue comes off as equally confused and natural.

Yao’s words have ushered in change and built careers. There’s a substantial part of the Chinese music industry that owes him its thanks.