At 53, He Spent Millions to Marry a 21-Year-Old African Woman—Then Gave It All Up to Become a Monk | HO

In the heart of Beijing, at the opulent Kungshi Palace, a wedding unlike any other unfolded in 2011. The guest list read like a who’s who of China’s cultural elite, the Ministry of Culture sent its official blessings, and 50,000 onlookers crowded the streets to catch a glimpse of the spectacle.

Price tag? A jaw-dropping $5.6 million. But the real story wasn’t the luxury, the celebrities, or the historic venue—it was the unlikely love between China’s most influential traditional painter, Yang Yan, and a 21-year-old African college student named Aayita.

It was a union that defied age, race, and expectation, captivating the nation and shaking the literary and art worlds to their core. But just as the fairy tale seemed to settle into happily ever after, Yang Yan shocked his admirers once again—by giving up his fortune, his marriage, and his public life to become a Buddhist monk.

What kind of fate brings together a revered Chinese master and a young African woman? And what drives a man to walk away from it all? This is the unforgettable story of Yang Yan—a life lived in pursuit of beauty, love, and spiritual truth.

A Master’s Lonely Heart

Born in 1958 in Shining, Qinghai, Yang Yan’s talent was apparent from the moment he could hold a brush. By age six, his uncle had already begun taking him to study with China’s greatest painters—Hua Tuo, Huang Joe, and Lee Karen. By 36, Yang Yan was recognized as a “World Chinese Artist,” and his masterpieces were collected by institutions around the globe. In 2014, one of his works, Hang Shan Fu, sold for a staggering $9.24 million.

But behind the fame and fortune, Yang Yan’s personal life was marked by solitude. His parents waited anxiously for him to marry and start a family, but for more than 20 years, Yang Yan remained single. Relatives introduced him to countless eligible women, yet none touched his heart. For Yang Yan, love was as sacred and serious as his art—something to be pursued with devotion, not convenience.

The Quest for His African Goddess

Everything changed in 2001, when a chance encounter with a wooden sculpture at a friend’s house altered the course of Yang Yan’s life. The statue depicted an African girl, her features delicate and goddess-like. Yang Yan was transfixed. “I want to marry an African girl who looks just like this,” he declared.

His friends laughed off the idea, but Yang Yan was dead serious. Thus began a decade-long quest that took him to Kenya, Nigeria, France, South Africa—over 50 countries in total. He met many women, but none matched the image in his heart.

As he turned 50, friends admired his persistence, even as hope seemed to fade. One friend introduced him to Maria, a singer who resembled the statue and had publicly expressed a desire to marry a Chinese man. But when they met, Maria greeted him as “father”—a respectful term in African culture, but one that instantly extinguished Yang Yan’s romantic hopes.

Despite disappointment, Yang Yan didn’t give up. He had joined the Chinese Religious Association in 1998 and practiced Buddhism, believing in destiny. If the right woman didn’t appear, he reasoned, it simply wasn’t meant to be.

A Decade of Searching—And a Twist of Fate

After ten years, the search yielded no results. Yang Yan let go, trusting fate to guide him. Then came an invitation to Sierra Leone for a cultural exchange. On the plane, he met a local man named Ohasang, who promised to help him find his dream girl and urged him to attend Sierra Leone’s 50th anniversary celebration.

At Fulton Square, Yang Yan’s heart nearly stopped when he saw six African girls dancing. One of them, Aayita, looked exactly like the girl from the carving. Sweating with emotion, Yang Yan asked Ohasang to introduce them.

Aayita, a 21-year-old senior at Fulton University, was stunned when Yang Yan confessed he’d been searching for her for a decade. She was flattered, but understandably confused. Yang Yan, sensing her hesitation, asked her to be his guide as he traveled the country.

Over the next few days, Aayita showed him Sierra Leone’s vibrant culture. Yang Yan would stop mid-walk to sketch scenes that moved him, and Aayita was amazed by his talent. She watched in admiration and gave him a thumbs up—an act of encouragement that thrilled Yang Yan and convinced him he’d found “the one.”

Yang Yan’s kindness toward beggars and children also touched Aayita deeply. One evening, he played Teresa Teng’s “I Only Care About You,” hoping music would bridge their hearts.

Family Resistance and a Grand Gesture

But love was not enough. Aayita’s family, newly wealthy and protective, opposed the relationship. Her father, a university president, didn’t want his young daughter marrying a much older man. Yang Yan, undeterred, worked tirelessly to win their trust, supporting local children and proving his sincerity.

Eventually, the family relented. Yang Yan brought them to Beijing and staged the most lavish wedding the city had seen in years. The event was not just a union of two people, but a collision of cultures, ages, and traditions. In literary circles, eccentric marriages were not unheard of—but no one had ever seen a celebrated Chinese master marry a young African college student.

Some called it a grand romantic gesture. Others whispered it was a transaction of money and beauty. Yang Yan ignored the critics. He was determined to live his truth.

Navigating Cultural Differences

Married life was not without challenges. Their schedules clashed; Yang Yan began staying up until 3 a.m. to match Aayita’s routine. Communication was difficult, so Yang Yan bought a translator, hired a Chinese teacher for Aayita, and patiently taught her to read, write, and adapt to Chinese culture.

Aayita struggled with chopsticks and Chinese food at first, so Yang Yan learned to cook dishes from her hometown to make her feel at home. Their personalities were also worlds apart—Yang Yan reserved and traditional, Aayita open and affectionate. Once, she kissed him so passionately his lips swelled, and they both burst out laughing.

Despite the differences, Yang Yan encouraged Aayita to participate in charity work and cultural exchanges, helping her adjust and grow in her new environment.

A Family, At Last

A year into their marriage, Aayita gave birth to their son, Yang Hi Ping—Yang Yan’s first child. The artist was overjoyed, and his mother laughed with delight. To Yang Yan’s amazement, his mixed-race son showed a natural talent for painting.

In 2015, the family was invited to the Spring Festival Gala as a symbol of international love and friendship. Later, Aayita gave birth to another son. After recovering, she taught Yang Yan to dance to African music, which made him feel young again.

Seven years into their marriage, they had two children and a joyful home. Their happiness silenced the skeptics. But just when everyone thought the story was a fairy tale, Yang Yan shocked the world again.

From Painter to Monk

Yang Yan announced he wanted to become a monk. At first, no one took him seriously. Then he took a Buddhist name, Shidaju, shaved his iconic white beard, and left everything behind. He gave all his assets to Aayita and their sons, and entered Jingi Temple.

The news stunned the public. Some called it a publicity stunt; others said he was irresponsible. But those who knew Yang Yan believed his decision was sincere—a quest for higher wisdom, not regret.

Perhaps it was love—love that had driven him to search for a decade, to cross continents, to marry against all odds, and finally, to let go. He had lived a life full of passion and devotion, celebrated and loved, and had experienced both hardship and happiness. Maybe, having seen so much, Yang Yan was finally ready to walk away from the noise of the world and find peace within.

Legacy of Devotion

Yang Yan’s story is one of relentless pursuit—of art, of love, and of meaning. He became a father late in life, built a family, and made headlines with his grand gestures. In the end, he chose simplicity and spiritual clarity over wealth and fame.

Some say he was following in the footsteps of Jang Dakan, another legendary artist who had also become a monk. Perhaps Yang Yan hoped to find new inspiration for his art through spiritual practice. Whatever the reason, it was his decision—a testament to his lifelong refusal to compromise his heart.

In a world obsessed with appearances, Yang Yan showed that true devotion means daring to chase your dreams, embracing the unexpected, and, when the time comes, knowing how to let go.