Should the government restrict the number of vehicles in the capital by even and odd-numbered license plates in the future, more people will resort to taxis, Hao says.

"For a cabbie, Beijing is already a lot different from what it was two years ago. We used to drive through the city searching for customers, but people come to us now thanks to the taxi apps.

"Our boss told us there is endless money to be made as long as you work hard, but I don't think I will stick at this for too long. Compared with other jobs I'm qualified for, I can make the most money driving a taxi, but you're overwhelmed by chronic ailments, diseases and sickness."

A cabbie Hao knew died of cerebral hemorrhage not too long ago, a result of working around the clock, he says.

"It was so sudden, and the family has not come to terms with it yet. The kid is too young to understand. I realized recently that my knees aren't bending properly, and many of my colleagues, especially those on night shift, suffer from ailments of one sort or another.

"I once drove someone in his 50s who suffered from gout and went through a lot of pain just getting into the taxi. I decided then that I'd never sacrifice my health for wealth."

Because Hao spends more than 12 hours a day behind the wheel, he takes every opportunity to stand up to take a break, even when waiting for customers and when having lunch.

"At the start of the month drivers hand over 3,500 yuan for rent on the taxi, and we need to get that back in the following 30 days. You can make a lot or make nothing. It all comes down to you."

Hao says he will drive for two more years and make as much money as possible, then find more stable work that offers him more time with his family and that poses no threat to his legs.

He has considered many other job options, including driving buses in the morning and spending afternoons with his son, or going back to being a chauffeur on a fixed salary and working from 9 am till 5 pm each day.

Hao says that after watching gangster movies and detective films when he was young he used to dream of becoming a policeman.

"The uniform was just too cool to be true."

However, as a man with a family to feed, such colorful ambitions are now strictly the reserve of drinking sessions with friends, he says.

He has barely any time for hobbies apart from going fishing on Sunday morning. But while most other fellow fishers lounge in chairs waiting for a bite, Hao, opts to do that standing up.

"After sitting for six days doing something, standing on your feet is a godsend."

He takes home about 8,000 yuan a month, he says, and is grateful for having a job as a cabbie, considering that his educational qualifications are not competitive in a fierce job market.

"You can earn even more than university graduates as long as you work hard enough. Many people spend a lot of money on air tickets and accommodation to travel around Beijing. I'm paid for it."

He can have a day off whenever he wants to, he says, and he does not need to squeeze himself into a subway train or to punch a card when he arrives at work, something many people dream of.

Some of Hao's fellow drivers have been in the job for 20 years, a lot longer than he has, but he feels his life has already been enriched after meeting people from all walks of life.

In the job, he says, he meets the rich and the poor, the powerful and the powerless, the pretty and the not so pretty.

After seeing so many people and hearing many stories, you begin to realize what is important and what is not important, he says.