Eileen Chang was born in a declining aristocratic family, and became famous when young as a talented woman writer. Her words are like a gorgeous yet cold sword, which she waves gracefully, amidst the romantic falling flowers, shattering the brilliant rays of the moon. Life is short, yet suffering is long. She enjoyed the glory of worldwide attention, and also suffered people's criticism both in speech and writing. From old Shanghai to the foreign land, she was born as a shining star, lived like no one's watching, and left determinedly. She indulged in self-admiration when young, was infatuated with love later, and lived in solitude in her twilight years. She drifted from place to place in her lifetime, and had many sorrows, but still, she was a 'flower of Shanghai', standing proudly in the world. Through the misty rain one hundred years back, on the long alley of old Shanghai, it seems we could see her wearing an old yet gorgeous cheongsam, with her noble head high, aloofly and indifferently watching the mortal world going by. There is no disdain, nor sorrow and joy.