Zhao Guo Chao moved to Beijing from his home province of Henan to work as a delivery man two years ago.
While most other migrant workers in the city have left for the new year holiday, the 27 year-old stayed behind, because he can't afford the trip back.
"My family relatives and friends all want me to return for new year. It's not because I don't want to go, but the situation doesn't allow me to."
Zhao spends most of his days waiting at a local market for someone to hire him.
Work is sporadic and during slow weeks he makes less than AU$100.
But he says it's still more than what he could make working in his home town, where his wife and daughter still live.
His daughter, Zhao Er Ling, is five and half years old, but she hardly knows him.
"I've seldom seen my daughter in recent years. I returned home last September but she didn't recognise me. Every time she sees me she cries and says she doesn't want to see this person. She says 'I don't know this dad.'"
For many of China's 260 million migrant workers, lunar new year is one of the few occasions they can reconnect with children left behind in their home towns.
China's strict household registration, or hukou system, means migrants and their families aren't given access to public education or healthcare in major cities.
Gabriel Corsetti works as a researcher at the Beijing-based China Development Brief.
"City administrations may feel they lack the financial resources to give everyone in the city the access to the same quality of services, and so you have to consider the needs of the people who are already based there etc. so obviously that's a big part of the issue."
About one and a half hours' drive south of central Beijing is the community of Li Cun.
Many migrant workers live there, but this week it's practically empty as many residents have returned to their home towns for the seven-day lunar new year holiday.
Kong Ling Lan and her family are among the few remaining.
She moved to Beijing from China's south as a teenager to work as a cleaner.
Now she cares for her 10 year-old daughter Lin Xue Qin and her two year-old niece, Yang Han.
The new year holiday is the first time she's seen her son, Lin Cheng, in months.
"He arrived on the 17th of January. Two days before he called me to say he bought his tickets and would come after his exams. A few nights before my son came to Beijing I couldn't sleep. My heart was so happy."
Kong's son went back to her home town two years ago because he couldn't enrol in a Beijing high school.
With no surviving grandparents, he's forced to live alone.
"The first time I accompanied my son to return home I was so sad, even thinking about it now, it's still very difficult. Because we had no other choice."
In a few years when she's old enough to begin high school her daughter Lin Xue Qin must also leave.
Her son, Lin Cheng, is now close to graduating, and his mother says he's doing well.
But many of the 60 million children in China living without their parents are not.
Social policy analyst Ying Shi says they often lack proper nutrition and physical care.
"Without their parents around them even their more basic rights cannot be realised. They are at more risk of injuries accidents etc. And education-wise they might not have good guidance and support, so it's very hard for a child without parents."
She says children left behind are also more vulnerable to mental health issues.
"Some evidence shows that children without parental care have lower self-esteem and have more anxiety problems."
Migrant worker Zhao Guo Chao's daughter is cared for primarily by his mother in-law.
He says it's very difficult working so far away, but he believes the sacrifice is worth it for now.
"When my situation is financially better, I will go back to my home town because I want to give my family a warm home."
He'll see his family again in October.
Until then, he says, he'll continue to keep his head down and keep working hard, focused on the future.
