China has one of the longest recorded histories of any culture in the world. Consequently, the history of Chinese martial arts is incomprehensibly vast. But still, today’s practitioners can be stubbornly narrowminded. While we claim this venerated heritage that spans dynasties, we only preserve a small fraction of that legacy within our modern-day practice. I’m not sure why this is but it’s especially exemplified within our weapons.

The Chinese arsenal of cold arms one of the most diverse in the world. However, when it comes to the specific weapons, we’ve settled into archetypal models. For example, take our jian – our straight double-edged sword. While there are slight variations in the hilts, for the most part, the style of jian that we all use for practice nowadays is akin to what was seen in the latter Ming Dynasty (1368-1644) and throughout the Qing Dynasty (1644-1912). There’s a wide variety of ancient swords – literally thousands of years of history – that few martial arts practitioners ever even bother to engage.

This might change if Chen Likai (陳立楷) has his way. Chen is a swordsman who is looking to shift the Chinese sword paradigm. Hailing from the Zengcheng in Guangdong, Chen earned his degree in Civil Engineering at Guangzhou University in 2012, but his passion was the martial arts. He studied Changquan, Sanda, and Taijiquan. In college, he excelled in Wushu jian scoring an almost perfect 99 points on the college exam for the weapon (that’s right – in China, there are collegiate exams for swordplay). His fascination with swords led him to explore Shaolin and Wudang swordplay too.

While in University, Chen had the opportunity to handle some real jian from the Han Dynasty (202 BCE-220 CE). The experience changed his perspective on Chinese swords. Chen discovered that he preferred the design of Han jian over the contemporary jian MIng/Qing-derived designs that we all use today. He began researching Han jian, documenting his findings in a work that he has yet to publish. However, he didn’t have access to well-made Han jian, so he decided to make his own. 

After graduating, Chen spent seven years applying his degree to construction jobs but found it ultimately unrewarding. So, he gave up a promising career to follow his dream – the dream of a swordsman. He committed to making accurate historic sword replicas as a fulltime vocation. Chen founded LK Chen Swords, the ‘LK’ being an abbreviation of the initials of his given name Likai.

Drinking from the Dragon Well

Although Chen is an avid swordsman, he is trained as a civil engineer, not a bladesmith. That education provided him with the principles of design, but forging steel is another thing entirely. He reached out to many of the well reputed forges and master smiths in Dragon Well in hopes of recreated a realistic Han jian. He was in for disappointment.

Dragon Well, known in Mandarin as Longquan (龍泉) has a history of swordmaking that goes all the way back to the Spring Autumn Period (770-476 BCE). There were originally seven wells, naturally arranged in the seven-star pattern of the Big Dipper, situated high atop the mountains in Zhejiang province. Today, Dragon Well remains a major producer of Chinese swords ranging from premium collector quality blades to modern wushu apparatus.

The ‘experts’ in Dragon Well told Chen the Han jian like he wanted could no longer be made. What’s more, they were disturbingly uninformed on the history of their craft. They believed Han jian were heavier than jian from the Ming or Qing Dynasties (it’s the reverse in most cases). Frankly, there was little market for Han jian and so the Dragon Well sword makers didn’t care. The Han-style jian that Dragon Well were making were mostly caricature – loosely based on what the makers had seen in books or behind museum glass windows. They had not done the research like Chen did, not handled or measured the archeological finds, so they were disproportionate and poorly balanced. While they made good Feng Shui wall hangers and presentation swords, these weren’t great for forms practice, much less for actual cutting.

Finding a Forge

Eventually Chen found an experienced sword maker who shared his passion and they collaborated to create Chen’s first sword. Based upon Chen’s extensive research, the Flying Phoenix (fei feng ji ci Han jian 飛鳳擊刺漢劍) was a sword reborn, based on classic Han jian design.

Building upon that design, Chen created four more Han Dynasty jian which he has dubbed the LK Five (zheng kai wu jian 正楷五剑). These exemplify the finest ancient jian replicas based on Chen’s historical research and practical cutting experience. The other four swords include the Striking Eagle (zhi niao Chu chang jia 鷙鳥楚長鋏), a whoppingly huge two-handed sword just shy of 6” long based on a piece dating back to Kingdom of Chu, the Roaring Dragon (long yin Chu chang jian 龍吟楚長鋏), another Chu based design with some enhancements, the White Arc (bai hong Han jian 白虹漢劍), a military sidearm based on an antique piece in Chen’s private collection, and the Magnificent Chu jian (liu cai Chu jian 流彩楚劍). I have a Magnificent Chu jian and will discuss it next. I have a Flying Phoenix too, but I’m going to focus on the Chu jian here.

The Kingdom of Chu

While Chen venerates Han jian, three of the LK Five are from the latter Chu. The Kingdom of Chu was based in the heart of China and had an incredibly long run just shy of eight centuries from 1030 to 223 BCE. It is a “Kingdom” instead of a “Dynasty” because it predates the unification of China under the Qin Dynasty (221-206 BCE). The Qin is the first dynasty, and it is from where we derive the word “China” (‘Q’ is pronounced as ‘Ch’ in Mandarin pinyin romanization). It was the rise of the Qin Dynasty that ended the Kingdom of Chu.

What is significant about Chu jian is that these were the world’s first iron and steel blades. All the other swords of the time were bronze. This gave the Kingdom of Chu a powerful metallurgic advantage, and accordingly Chu blades are celebrated in records, poetry, and song from the era.

For Chen, jian from the Chu and Han periods are the epitome of sword making in terms of performance. He bases his Chu jian designs on specimens excavated from tomb archeological digs done around 1950-1980. These tombs were from the last century of the Kingdom of Chu, sometime around 315-221 BCE, when Chu jian metallurgy was at its height.  

Bronze versus Iron and Steel

When I served as a weapons expert on Man at Arms: Art of War, I had the unique opportunity to work with a bronze jian. I was astonished to learn that bronze polished like a mirror because the bronze artifacts I’ve seen in museums were never polished so brightly (in retrospect, it’s kind of dumb on my part because many bronze artifacts are mirrors and I do remember looking at them in museums unable to see my reflection and thinking ‘that doesn’t work’). I was also surprised at how sharp bronze could be. However, it’s not as strong as steel so bronze blades could not be as long, and it can’t hold an edge. After every cut, my cast mate, master weapons maker Kerry Stagmer of Baltimore Knife and Sword, whipped out his handy pocket sharpener and take that edge back to razor-sharp keenness. That is a modern convenience, however. Handy pocket sharpeners weren’t as sophisticated in the 2^nd century BCE as what Kerry kept as his everyday carry on our set.

Obviously, steel beats bronze on the battlefield. Once every world culture attained the ability to make steel, there was no going back. Steel is stronger so it can go longer giving the sword wielder more reach. And it stays sharp. ‘Stay sharp’ was the motto of Man at Arms.

In terms of handling, Stagmer’s bronze jian cut effortlessly. It took a little time to get accustomed to the handle. I’m used to the lobed pommels of Ming/Qing jian, and the flat disc pommel dug into my wrist a little bit because it was more pronounced. The lightweight pommel also brings the balance of the sword more forward towards the tip. That felt a little top heavy for forms practice, but it was ideal for cutting. This style of sword begs to cut something.

Both the bronze jian that Stagmer made for Man at Arms and Chen’s Magnificent Chu jian have the advantage of modern technology. Today, we have power tools like grinders and power hammers for much more efficient and refined production. If you watch that Man at Arms episode – Season 2: Episode 8 ‘Weapons of Kung Fu’ – Stagmer replicated the ancient method of bronze casting to make that jian blade. But that was a unique one-off piece, made just for the show. LK Chen Swords produces hundreds of swords, each required to meet their standard of excellence.

The Magnificent Chu jian

Chen’s Magnificent Chu jian has a truly magnificent blade. It’s folded pattern steel that combines 1065 carbon steel with T8 tungsten-cobalt-vanadium high-speed tool steel, heat treated to a hardness of 54-55 HRC. That’s a lot of technical noise for anyone who doesn’t know steel, but for the uninitiated, the blade has an exquisite pattern in its mirror-polished finish, like a tight wood grain. I confess, I’m a sucker for the beauty of a folded steel pattern. I can gaze at those for days. It’s the sword nerd in me.

Similar to Stagmer’s bronze jian, I have some adjustment issues with the hilt for Chu/Han period swords. I’m used to the that Ming/Qing flat pommel, so I need to adjust my wrist movements to accommodate a disc pommel. While I still prefer a Ming/Qing pommel, I admire the accuracy of Chen’s work (and Stagmer’s for that matter). These makers based their sword designs on actual examples. Many contemporary Chinese sword makers base there designs solely upon their imagination. I’ve seen plenty of modern made swords with hilts that look ridiculous, more like cartoon fantasy swords than any authentic design. It’s like fencing with Conan’s sword – a sword that was completely made up – but it’s one of those compromises that contemporary Kung Fu practitioners just accept. Honestly, I have know idea why present-day practitioners accept this when there are plenty of antique and archeological examples available upon which to base sword designs.

The attention to detail in the fittings for Chen’s Magnificent Chu jian is refreshing. The pommel has concentric circular grooves which was status symbol for nobility during that period. The fittings are made from industrial grade precision case brass, which makes the imagery sharp and clean. So many modern jian hilt fittings are lame. Nowadays they are either made from sheet metal braised around a piece of wood or cast pot metal (pot metal is a cheap low-melting pot alloy for making fast castings – it’s not strong enough to take the high impact of swordplay).

The guard of the Magnificent Chu jian is detailed with inscriptions and patterns of the period. There are two Chinese characters for shi (士) in ancient bird-worm seal calligraphy script. Shi means ‘scholar,’ ‘gentleman,’ or ‘soldier.’ It also has a Taotie pattern. Taotie (饕餮) images adorned bronze artifacts from throughout the first millennium BCE. It was one of the ‘four evil creatures’ of ancient times and its name translates into ‘gluttonous greedy beast.’ If you remember the film The Great Wall (and I certainly won’t fault you if you don’t – it was a disappointing movie), Taotie were the evil alien beasts that the great wall sought to repel. The Magnificent Chu jian guard is much smaller that what I usually use, and I tend to creep up on the guard to get a better grip purchase, so this also required some adjustment.

However, these personal adjustments to my sword practice are happening quickly. Each time I practice with one of Chen’s swords, I make new discoveries. And I’m beginning to see why Chen loves Chu/Han period swords. These feel lethal.

Although I’ve frequently espoused working with sharps (under proper supervision), I confess that I’ve grown lax in my own practice of jian by leaning on the dull practice jian where I currently train. It’s just so convenient. But true Kung Fu is about hardship, not convenience. I find my practice has become more mindful while using Chen’s jian. Working with sharps, respect for the blade is critical, lest I cut my own finger or ear or whatever. There’s no margin for error or carelessness. The ritual of always knowing where my blade’s edge is and cleaning it after each practice reminds me of the reverence for swords that I learned in Iaido. A real weapon commands respect. It’s something that I feel many Kung Fu practitioners have lost.

Chen Likai is a swordsman after my own heart. His passion for the art has led him to affect change in how we understand our practice. From producing his first Flying Phoenix, he now has a catalog just shy of 20 different sword designs. So far, his swords have seen limited exposure in the United States, and mostly within the Historical European Martial Arts (HEMA) circles. And if you know anything about HEMA, those people love to test their weapons in cutting and combat. They are unlike Chinese martial artists, the vast majority of whom just dance about with dull swords with the misguided belief that they are learning how to sword fight (although there are some ancient Chinese-based HEMA groups, I’m told).

I truly hope that Chen starts a movement with these, and that the Chinese community embrace his swords. They are truly magnificent and can rekindle the proud legacy of Chinese swordsmanship in an extraordinary way.